Death Isn't The End
by DragonLadyRelena
Summary: Dusty's gone. Or is she? After the Brown Lion is stolen, old enemies fade while new ones emerge. What secrets does Dusty hide and can the Voltron Force learn them before it's too late? Second installment in Dusty Saga.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** Since I've done this so much already, why do I have to bother typing it out? Oh, yeah, I remember now! It's because I'm still writing. Duh! Well, here we go again. I don't own it, and never will. All original characters and places aren't mine, but I do own my characters and guard them fiercely. With that horrid torture over once again, on with the story!

**AN:** Well, like with "Sixth Lion", I could never really read this one without a profound sense of dissatisfaction and more than a little embarrassment. So it's getting an overhaul, and being reposted as I go. Wish me luck!

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**Planet Arus: Somewhere In The Desert**

He ran, knowing he could never go back, and there was nothing he could do to save himself. His life was over, and he knew it. As he ran down a dune, he lost his footing and fell, rolling to the bottom. For long moments, he lay there, his side aching from a cramp and his heart heavy as lead in his chest. He had stabbed his best friend in the back, not even giving her the chance to defend herself. It didn't matter that he'd been programmed by Haggar to do it, it was still done, and he'd felt her death in the castle so far away from where he lay. Tears blurred his vision as he got slowly, painfully, to his feet. Nothing else that had happened hurt as much as this did. In one hand, he held the dagger, still covered with Dusty's blood. A blaster was holstered at his hip, but he hadn't even considered using it before now. It might have been faster for Dusty that way. Haggar and Lotor had wanted her to suffer, and she had, more than they knew, before death released her.

Stumbling in his haste in the dark, without even the moon for companionship, he eventually reached the place where the two mythical beasts had fought three days ago. The shifting desert sands hadn't completely erased all signs of the battle: there were white feathers, emerald scales and ruby red drops of blood still scattered about. He stood there, picturing it in his mind, as he dropped to his knees, the knife lying forgotten for the moment, to pick up one of the many blood-flecked feathers. It was Dusty's blood, he knew, and he started to cry again as he looked at the bloody knife in front of him. All of Dusty's wounds were his fault, and though Haggar, Lotor and even Zarcon shared some of the blame, her death was squarely on his shoulders. The sound of his blaster clearing the holster was overly loud, not even covered by his sobs . . . or his rating. "I'm sorry, Ishtari," he whispered, clutching the feather to his leaden heart. "I'm so sorry. I'm so very sorry." Standing now, and looking up at the stars she'd loved to look at whenever she could, he held the blaster to his temple. "I love you, Ishtari." He pulled the trigger.

A coyote, on the prowl for an easy meal, came across the body laying in a pool of his own blood. He sniffed at it, but instead of moving in, he backed away, his fur standing on end and his tail bristled. He could smell the evil tainting the corpse, and after giving a warning howl to others in the area, he left it undisturbed, knowing he'd find tastier prey farther along.

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There was a slow and lovely sense of weightlessness, of lifting out of the shell that held the spirit bound to the earth. She floated free of it, a bird rising on the wing. _Let it last forever_, she thought even as she felt herself being pulled back down to her body, just as she had been thousands of times over the last three thousand years. She breathed in, her lungs painfully tight, before she slowly opened her eyes to total blackness. "What the-" she muttered, sitting up slowly, her body protesting the motion after having lain on it for so long.

The stone beneath her was smooth and warm from her body. "Boy, where _am_ I?" she wondered aloud, the sound of her voice echoing in the small space. Holding her hand out, palm up, she focused and a small flame appeared above her hand. Looking around, she found herself sitting on a stone slab made of blue marble in a tomb fashioned from the same stone. From where she was, she could faintly see the outline of the door. Though it wasn't meant to open from the inside, she wouldn't have any problems getting it open and leaving.

"Time to go," she said to herself, easing off the stone slab and standing. Her legs trembled, but she knew it was only temporary: her strength would return with time. She crossed the chamber, at first unsteadily, but with more balance and coordination coming with every step she took. With the faint sound of stone grating across stone, she opened the door and stepped out into the night, the crescent moon casting little light as she made her way out of the cemetery, leaving nothing behind except footprints that would be gone when the sun evaporated the dew on the grass. Turning back to close the door, she saw words etched into the marble, and smiled as she read them. _Lance is a real sweetie,_ she thought to herself, gently tracing one line with her finger.

She could see the castle in the distance, and smiled a little. If anyone had been with her, they would have seen the sadness in it. She didn't want to leave, but knew she had to. They thought she was dead, and it would have to remain that way for now. Quite possibly forever, but only she knew just how long forever could last. A touch of bitterness touched her face now, a face that had already changed from the one those at the castle knew. _One last thing to do first,_ she thought to herself with a sigh. She needed a way off the planet, and she'd brought only Brown Lion with her.

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**Constanta: Four Months Later**

Keith's first impression of the place was that it came straight from a fairy tale. There were many trees, mostly pines, scattered throughout the valley. There was gray, craggy rock thrusting out, but wildflowers sprouted their way through the cracks. The sea below was a deep paintbrush blue and serene. If he looked up, following the direction of the road, he should see the small town of Constanta with its blue and white buildings stacked like pretty toys on the uneven promontory. As they approached, Keith felt a sense of quiet comfort. The town lost none of its charm on closer contact. The houses and other buildings seemed content to push their way out of the side of the rock, balanced with one another and the lay of the land. There was an overall tidiness and sense of age.

_No skyscrapers, no frantic rush_, Keith thought, something inside of him sighing in relief. He glanced at Allura and saw a small smile playing on her lips. Though taking two Lions would have been more convenient, and certainly more practical in case they were attacked, they were both in Black Lion, while the others held the fort for the duration. If anything happened, they weren't far from Arus and could be back in a couple of hours if necessary. Bandor, back from Galaxy Garrison for the next month, had volunteered to help keep watch over Arus while they were away.

"Beautiful," she whispered as they passed a leafy green park where children played on the thick carpet of grass near a fountain. "Like a fairy tale."

"I was thinking the same thing," Keith admitted with a chuckle. "Look at _that,_" he said as the palace came into view.

It stood, as was fitting, on the highest point of Constanta's rocky jut of land. It faced the sea, with huge rocks and sheer cliffs tumbling down to the water. It was made of white stone and the structure spread out in a jumble of battlements, parapets and towers. It had been built for both royalty and defense and remained unchanged. It hovered over the capital like a protection and a blessing.

"Wow," Allura breathed her eyes wide in wonder and awe. "My father would love this place." It made her think of jewels-old and precious ones passed down from generation to generation. The land rose in tiers of hills from the lap of the sea. Those houses, pink, white, blue and dull gold, tumbled up and down those rises, jutted out on the promontory as if they'd been carved there. Flowers grew in abundance and with such a free and casual air they added immense charm to the drama of rock and cliff. The fronds of regal palms fluttered in a constant balmy breeze. The sense of age appealed to her. Generation by generation, century by century, this small gem had survived and gleamed, and clung to its heart without giving way to the frenzied rush of urbanity, without exploiting its vast and staggering views with skyscrapers.

It had changed, here and there, over time. No place ever remained truly the same. That was the beauty of progress, but only a wise leader incorporated said progress into the overall cloth that was his home without losing any of the charm or style of years gone by. It was only just, they both supposed, that it stood on the highest point. It faced the sea, its white stones rising from the cliff. It spread, even rambled, with its battlements, its parapets and towers harking proudly back to another age. Another time. They imagined that those who lived inside understood the palace had been built for defense, and they could easily see how cagily the design had been included into the overall picture. There could be no attack from the sea, no force could breach the sheer rock walls of the cliffs. Add the height, the hills made it all but impregnable. The port they could just make out south of the castle made it rich. It had been built for beauty, as well as keeping the people who lived in and around it safe.

They wouldn't be here now if it wasn't for a cryptic message from the current resident of Constanta's castle. She had been vague, saying only that they would find what they were looking for on Constanta, and that she'd been restoring it to its original state before calling them. She was mostly done, and it was out of courtesy that she'd called at all, hearing through various sources that they were looking for the item she had. Though she'd never revealed her identity or what it was exactly it was, they had a feeling they already knew. It could only be one thing: Brown Lion. After it had mysteriously disappeared from the hangar, without setting off the alarms, they had checked with everyone on duty that night, and even some who weren't. The news was all the same: they hadn't seen anyone, and it was like the lion was there one moment and gone the next.

One tech reported seeing a mouse inside the hangar before it had disappeared. He claimed it wasn't one of the space mice, but a regular field mouse, no more than an inch or two long, without the tail. How it had gotten in was a mystery, and none of the castle mousers allowed a mouse, with the exception of the space mice, to stay inside the castle for very long. Since no one else had seen the mouse, it was assumed that one of the mousers had gotten it or it had escaped back outside. Though unusual, the mouse wasn't that important: Brown Lion was. If this person, whoever she was, had or knew where Brown Lion was, it was worth going to see her.

As they landed, they got their first close up look at the castle. There had to have been a drawbridge once, they were sure of it. An arched mahogany door stood at the top of the stone steps. Clear and tinted glass glistened as it should in palaces. At the topmost tower, a flag fluttered in the gentle breeze: a snowy white with a sky blue fire-breathing griffon positioned in the exact center. One of the doors opened, and a woman walked out. From this distance, they couldn't tell what she looked like, but she wore a royal blue shirt and faded jeans, her hair flowing behind her in the breeze. "I think we're about to meet our hostess, Princess," Keith said as they unstrapped from their seats to climb out of the Lion.

"Well, at least we won't have to knock on the door," she replied, making him smile a little as he opened the hatch.

"I don't think I could see the Princess of Arus knocking on a door to a castle," he remarked, and she laughed at the image, reaching up for the hands he held down to help her up. "It would shatter all of my illusions." They climbed down, reaching the ground just at the woman reached them. Her tawny gold hair was pulled back in a ponytail that brushed the small of her back and glinted with blond highlights in the sun. Her eyes, a deeper shade than her hair, glinted with intelligence and humor as she smiled in welcome. Her face had an angular delicacy that drew attention, but under it there was both strength of character and physical strength. From the angle of her chin, they could tell that this woman was stubborn, and it was echoed in the set of her shoulders.

"Welcome to Constanta," she said, her voice as light and free as the breeze that moved her hair. "I'm glad you accepted my invitation to come. My name is Sarah Monroe. The castle has been in my family for about a couple hundred years."

"You're not a princess?" Allura asked, not sure what to make of her. There was something about Sarah that seemed familiar, but she couldn't pin it down without more time. Sarah laughed, waving a hand in dismissal.

"Heavens, no!" she answered, her eyes lighting up at the thought. "Not even a member of the Royal Court. A member of my family, Penelope Bateman, bought the castle from the town. It was about to be torn down because it was falling apart. She had it rebuilt from the ground up, keeping to the original design, but updating almost everything."

"Why'd she buy it?" Keith wondered, looking up at the castle and imaging all the work that had gone into it. It must have taken years for it to happen and more money than he could probably ever hope to see in one lifetime.

"She loved the palace," Sarah replied, turning to face it now, a wistful smile on her face, "and it shows. There was talk about replacing the castle with something else, I can't remember exactly, but she couldn't stand to see such a beautiful place torn down." She chuckled now, the sound full of fun. "She also had more money than she knew what to do with, and there was a bit of a recession going on, so she bought it, employing local people for the rebuild. Most of those working in the castle now, even though it's just me living here, have ancestors who worked on the castle. It's become something of a landmark, and storage space for the various things that my family has collected over the years.

"Well, I didn't ask you here to jabber on about my family," she went on with an embarrassed laugh, flushing a little. "Let's head inside and I'll show you what I've been working on, unless you'd rather rest a little from the trip?"

"No, thank you," Allura said, shaking her head a little. "We're anxious to see your project, and neither of us likes leaving Arus for too long."

"I understand. If you'll follow me, then?" She led them inside, and they were once again struck by the sheer beauty. The entrance hall was wide and stunning with its frescoed ceiling and polished floor, the gracious sweep of stairs leading up and up to what they didn't know yet. Wide windows were uncovered, letting in enough light to show everything to advantage. Paintings, some familiar but most were unknown to them, were plentiful. Some were of the castle and the surrounding countryside, while others were obviously scenes from Earth and there was even one of the Castle of Lions.

"Quite a collection you've got here," Keith commented as they passed a Ming urn on a Louis XIV stand.

"This place has become a magnet for the rare, odd and just plain unusual," Sarah replied, absently straightening a painting as she passed, "and I seem to have inherited the pack rat tendencies." She led them down more hallways, commenting on or pointing out paintings, statues or furniture most people wouldn't see outside of a museum. "Ah, here we are." Sarah headed for the recessed panel on one side of a large metal door, seeming out of place in the opulence and natural beauty of the castle. Pressing a series of numbers into the panel, the doors opened with barely a sound to reveal a cavernous room, the lights from the hall only lighting the first few feet beyond the door. Stepping in, Sarah found the lights and turned them on. With the flickers that fluorescent lights are famous for, they came on. There, resting on its haunches and still looking a little worse for wear, sat Brown Lion.

"How'd it get here?" Keith asked, quickly following her into the hangar. Brown Lion certainly looked better than it had when it disappeared from the repair bay on Arus, but that wasn't the issue here.

"A friend of mine dropped it off with me a couple months ago," Sarah told him, a slightly befuddled look in her eyes. "Why?"

"It was stolen from Arus three months ago," Allura replied, not taking her eyes off of the Lion. That it was here, safe, accounted for, and undergoing repairs, eased the knot in her stomach that had taken up almost permanent residence since it had gone missing. She knew, as well as Keith did, that there was no way Dusty would have flown it here. Getting it back to Arus wasn't that large of an issue for Allura, it was finding out how it had gotten here in the first place. "The alarms didn't go off, and no one saw it leave. It was there, then gone."

"If I'd known it was stolen, I would have called sooner," Sarah said, scrubbing both hands over her face. "I can arrange for it to be transported back to Arus once the repairs are completed." She sighed in resignation. "I would send it back with you, but Brown Lion can't fly right now. It can't do much more than sit there. I've had to rebuild most of the motors and systems, and the computers are kind of kaput right now. Not to mention fixing all the jury-rigging that was done to it. I'm sure Dusty would love to get her hands on--"

"Wait a minute," Keith broke in, one hand lifting to stop her. "You know Dusty?"

"Yes. I met her when she stopped at The Waystation. I'm Chief Mechanic there." She gestured to the Lion. "I would be there now, but my friend asked if I'd fix Brown Lion for her. I can tell it's been through hell, and I'm doing what I can to bring it back to as close to its original state as I can." Allura looked at Keith and saw that it was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that Dusty couldn't have brought Brown Lion here, but he prudently swallowed it for the moment.

"She didn't leave the key, did she?" he asked instead, wondering just how to get it back to Arus. Even if Dusty wasn't there to fly it, perhaps they could use it to train more pilots so they weren't alone in defending Arus and other planets from Zarcon.

"No, she took it with her," Sarah answered with a shake of her head. She felt for them, but there wasn't anything she could do. Her friend had dropped the Lion off, borrowed one of her ships and disappeared. She offered no explanation for the Lion's condition, and had left almost before the Lion was in the hangar, telling her to call Arus when she was almost finished. They would either take it or help her finish it. "I know it won't go anywhere without it, but perhaps I could tow it back when it's done."

"It won't matter," Allura said, walking to the Lion now. "Without the key, it won't do anyone any good. It won't fly, and it certainly can't move from any place we put it."

"I'm sorry, Princess. I should have sent a message when she first came to me."

"It's not your fault, Sarah," Keith argued, not sure if it was true or not. He didn't know what to make of Dusty's friend, and how the Lion had shown up here. However it had gotten here, and how the person who'd flown it here had gotten past the alarms was much more important than getting it back to Arus. As much as he's like to, he couldn't bring himself to delve into Sarah's mind, in the hopes of finding the answers there. He'd already tried to read her thoughts, but found she was locked up tighter than a maximum security cell block. "There was nothing you could do. If she took the key with her, it wouldn't have mattered if you did."

"Well, I'll finish fixing it at any rate," she replied with a sigh. "I guess it can stay here for now."

"She met you at The Waystation? Where's that?"

"A couple of systems from here, in orbit around Cyton," Sarah answered absently, looking up at the Lion again. "I was surprised to find Brown Lion here, given how damaged it was." She looked at them and a strange smile came across her face. "Then again, knowing my friend, I'm actually not that surprised. She could fly a brick if she felt like it."

"Would you know if it went anywhere else other than here?"

"Not without a key. I can fix the computers, but I can't get any information from them if I don't have the key. They were heavily damaged, and some of the circuits were fried and had to be replaced." She looked back up at the Lion. "I could try hacking into it, if you like."

"Doing that could wipe the system," Keith objected, crossing his arms over his chest to keep from pushing a hand through his hair. "Dusty told us that she did that herself while she and her father rebuilt it. The Lion keeps track of where it's been, but the data is encrypted and if you don't have the right password, the whole system will be destroyed."

"Only if you do it wrong, Commander," Sarah replied enigmatically, heading for the Lion. "This may take a while, so I'll have my senechal meet you outside and take you to the rooms I took the liberty to have prepared for you."

"How long is a while?"

"It takes as long as it takes, Princess. I'm hoping it won't take longer than a day, maybe two. I'll let you know if I find anything." She sounded distracted as she climbed up the side, and reaching the top, dropped into the open top hatch. "I left my computer in here, just in case I came across the password to the firewall, so I could find out the information you just asked for," she went on, popping out the hatch a minute later. "It won't be easy, but I'll give it my best shot. If I come close to wiping the system, I'll stop, and leave it alone. The information is more important than satisfying my ego to hack the system."

"We'll leave you to it then," Keith said, turning to the still open door.

"Mitchell will show you to your rooms, and anywhere else if you'd like to look around. If you need anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Good luck, Sarah."

"I'm going to need it."

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**To Be Continued . . .**

**AN:** That was fun. Let's see if I can keep the ball rolling by getting started on the next chapter! Wish me luck, and don't forget to read and review.


	2. Close To Home

**Disclaimer:** Yeah, yeah, yeah, I don't own it or the characters. I shouldn't have to type this anymore. Total evilness, but since I'm still writing, I guess I have to so I don't get sued. Oh, well. On with the story.

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Constanta:

Gentle chiming woke Allura later that night. Sarah hadn't joined them for dinner, too engrossed in breaking into the Lion's computer that she didn't want to leave, and had sent her regrets along with her wish that they have as much as they wanted, and again felt free to wander the castle. Her only order had been that they stay out of rooms that were locked, as rarer, more important items were secured behind them. She and Keith had done so, realizing that the castle was larger on the inside than it looked on the outside. It was also a treasure trove of the rare and unusual, all of the pieces lovingly restored and almost everything was worth a fortune in itself.

The chime sounded again, and she got up with a grumble, heading for the desk on the other the side of the well-appointed room, the thick piled carpet tickling her bare feet as she crossed the room. Even Nanny, with her strict edicts about etiquette, would have found nothing to complain about. The room was more like a suite, separated into three areas, with the well-stocked bathroom off to one side. The bed, big enough to sleep at least eight, dominated one part of the room, a pair of lovely mahogany tables flanking each side of the bed. The pillows and spread were military blue, the color edging toward royal blue. Lamps set up through the room gave off a diffuse golden light, lighting the room without being overly bright, their cream-colored shades matching the walls and setting off the bed covers to perfection. Three chairs, all a deep forest green, sat in a semi-circle in front of the stone fireplace, creating a sitting area without disrupting the overall flow of the room. Inside, logs waited for a rainy day or for the first cold wind that would herald winter. The desk, complete with a laptop set up for guest use, was positioned near the large windows, letting in natural light during the day and offering a stunning view of the stars and moon at night. She could just hear the sea and its scent drifted in through the window she'd left open before going to sleep.

"Yes?" she asked, pressing the button that would open communications with whomever was on the line.

"I'm sorry to wake you, Princess," Sarah replied, pushing a hand through her hair. She looked tired and tense, but there was something more in her gaze that had Allura's stomach clenching with nerves. It was more than the encryption that had her calling a guest this late. "There's an urgent call for you from Arus."

"Put it through here, if you can," Allura said, locking her fingers together under the desk, out of sight. It had to be important for Sarah to wake her, and it wasn't going to be something they were going to like.

"I could wake Keith for you, if you don't want to be alone," she began, but Allura shook her head. One of them awake was enough for now, and if it was this vital, she could always wake him herself.

"Connect it, please."

"As you wish," Sarah answered, and pushed a few buttons that Allura couldn't see. Her face was replaced by Lance, who looked like he was waiting for a shot of bourbon, a cigarette and a blindfold. Looking up at the screen, he saw that the call had been connected and tried to compose his features, but knew it was too late for that.

"Princess, I'm sorry to wake you," he apologized, pushing a hand through his hair, "and I honestly thought I'd calculated the time difference a little better than this."

"What is it, Lance?" she asked quietly, already knowing she wasn't going to like his news. "Is it Zarcon?"

"In a way, Princess, I wish it was," he answered with a heavy sigh. "It would be easier if it was." He buried his face in his hands for a moment, looking for all the world like breathing was more than he could handle, before he looked back up at the screen. "It's Coran, Princess. He . . . died, about an hour ago."

"What?" she whispered, one hand rising to her lips in shock. The bottom dropped out of her stomach and her heart fell like a lead weight into the space her stomach had just occupied. Her eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them back for the time being. There was more to hear, and she refused to be deaf to the news because she couldn't control the tears. "That can't be. He was fine when Keith and I left . . ."

"I know," Lance replied, his eyes filling with unexpected tears. "Dr. Gorma says it was a stroke, a blood clot that had traveled to his brain, probably from his leg."

"Was he--" Allura stopped, unable to draw enough air around the lump that had formed in her throat. "Did he--"

"Dr. Gorma said it was quick," he told her, knowing what she was trying to ask. "He didn't feel a thing." He looked away from the screen again. "I wanted to be able to tell you in person, but I thought it best if you heard as quickly as possible, and to know that Hunk, Pidge and I have already called Sven and Romelle for extra personnel for a while."

"Thank you, Lance," she said, appreciating the gesture. She knew that he knew she would want her people protected in a time like this, and that he already taken the necessary steps to ensure that went a long way to easing her fears that they would have to worry about an attack from Zarcon while they were dealing with the aftermath. "I'll let Keith know and we should be on our way back to Arus soon."

"All right. I'm so sorry about telling you like this, Princess."

"It's all right, Lance. I think it would be better to know before we got home than to find out when we got there." She drew as deep a breath as she could, and almost managed a neutral expression. "We'll be back as quick as we can."

"See you soon, Princess."

"See you soon, too, Lance," she replied, reaching for the button to cut communications, "and thank you again." When he nodded, she pressed the button, and sat back in the chair with a sigh. Keith's room was next door to hers, and she knew she should get up and wake him for the return trip to Arus, but she was having trouble getting up the energy to do so. She wanted a minute, just a few moments, to fall apart before she went back.

"Princess?" Sarah called, knocking on the door. "May I come in?" Getting her feet under her, Allura stood up with the desperate care of an invalid, afraid of making the wrong move, that it would shatter her and she'd never be able to find all of the pieces, let alone put them back together. The distance from the chair to the door looked twice as long as it did before. Slowly, Allura made her way across the room and opened the door. "Is everything all right?" she asked as she stepped inside, letting the door close behind her. A lovely calico cat was curled in her arms, gazing at Allura with deep green eyes.

"Not really," Allura said, pushing a hand through her tangled hair. "I'm sorry, but Keith and I have to go back to Arus." Sarah nodded, not asking for an explanation, and studied her in silence, gently scratching the cat's ears. Allura knew she could see the emotions running wild inside her though she tried to hide them, and wondered distantly what she'd say about them. The cat jumped down, and rubbed herself against Allura's legs, offering a small measure of comfort.

"There's one thing I want you to do first," Sarah told her, taking her arm and leading her to the bed. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, she nudged her to sit down on the side of the bed.

"What's that?" The cat jumped into her lap, curled into a ball and started purring, eyes closing as her warmth slowly seeped into Allura.

"Let it out, Allura," she replied, taking Allura's chin in one hand and meeting her gaze. "It won't help if you keep it in, trust me." Unable to resist the compulsion hidden in her words, Allura did just that, wrapping her arms around Sarah and sobbing out her broken heart and grief onto her shoulder. Sarah said nothing more, letting her shed her tears and offering only a shoulder to cry on. Tears had never ashamed Sarah, not ones that needed to be shed, and Allura needed the emotional release, even if only a partial one, more than anything else at the moment. Getting back to Arus and saying her final good-byes would help more, but there would be a difficult adjustment period for all of them. Sarah let Allura weep, not caring that her tears were soaking her shirt, and barely noticing that she was being held onto like she was a lifeline tossed to a sailor drowning at sea. Finally, after several long minutes, the flow of tears slowed then stopped.

"I'm sorry about that," Allura began, but Sarah shook her head, cutting her off.

"Don't worry about it, Princess," Sarah said, digging into her pocket for a handkerchief. Passing it to Allura, she waited while she wiped her eyes and delicately blew her nose. "I'll go wake Keith while you pack, and I'd be more than happy to fly you to Arus, if you like."

"We came in Black Lion," Allura replied, remaining seated when Sarah stood. The cat, happy to stay with Allura, looked up at Sarah and blinked slowly. "We couldn't leave it here."

"I never said you had to. The ship I have in mind is big enough to carry Black Lion, with room to spare," she told her with a small smile. "Not only that, but I'm fairly sure Keith won't feel comfortable flying when he hears the news. It's the least I can do for you."

"I appreciate it, Sarah, but what about the encryption?"

"I can work on it anywhere," she answered, waving a hand in dismissal. She was nearly finished in any case, and she needed to step away from it just now because her eyes were starting to cross from all the data she'd been working her way through for the last several hours. "This takes precedence. You get packing and I'll have the ship ready to leave in thirty minutes. Mitchell will come get you when it's time to go."

"Thank you, Sarah," Allura said as Sarah walked toward the door.

"Oh, and Proton?" The cat in Allura's lap meowed in reply. "Would you stay with the princess for now? I think she could use a little company." The cat meowed again, and tucked her feet under her, settling in for a visit. Tossing a small, bracing smile over her shoulder, Sarah walked out, already making plans for their departure. Stopping a maid along the way, she asked her to pass the word along that she would be going to Arus with her guests because of an emergency. The maid nodded, and went off to do as she was bid.

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Planet Arus: Castle of Lions

Lance, Hunk and Pidge waited at the edge of the landing platform for Keith, Allura and Sarah to arrive. Clouds obscured the moon, and there was a strong scent of rain in the air. The weather seemed to be mourning the loss of Coran as much as they were, for it had been cloudy and cold since he died, draining colors and leaving the world in various shades of gray. Off in the distance, lightning flashed, followed by the low rumble of thunder. Almost the instant it faded, the three men heard another noise, and looked up as one. Sarah's ship, unmistakably a cargo ship from the sheer bulk of it, descended slowly out of the clouds before settling with only a slight bump onto the tarmac.

"Should we wait here?" Pidge asked, looking up at his two friends, unashamed his eyes were wet. Hunk was blinking back tears of his own. His big friend- brother, really- was tough on the outside, but he was a giant marshmallow on the inside. Other than his skill with all things mechanical, Pidge thought that it was his best quality. Hunk wasn't afraid to let his true feelings show. Lance, his tears held back so his eyes were dry, was much the same. His attitude, making light of tense situations, was how he got through life. To Lance, there were times to be serious and times to laugh. He held to the truth that laughter was the best medicine, and employed it whenever he could: if a person could laugh, he often told them, there was still hope for the universe. This, however, seemed beyond him for the moment Pidge could only hope that it came back to him soon. He had a feeling they would need it.

Coran's death had sent everyone into deep mourning, and had left a hole that would probably never be filled again. They all knew it. As much as they complained about Coran's restrictions both on and off the battlefield, they all respected him. He, along with Allura, had held what was left of the people together after Zarcon's original attack on Arus. It was the two of them that had instilled the faith that if they held out long enough, they would find a way to help themselves and each other. Several of the peace treaties and alliances they had with other planets was through Coran's effort, guiding Allura both outright and through the things he taught her, letting them take root and blossom on their own.

"No," Lance said quietly, shaking his head a little. "Let's go meet them." They walked toward the ship, instinctively coming to attention as the ramp lowered, coming to rest almost at their feet.

A calico emerged first, stopping halfway down to study the three of them. Looking from one to the next, she launched at Pidge. Surprised, he caught her. After staring into his eyes for a moment, she settled in his arms, purring for all she was worth. Scratching her ears, he looked up as Keith and Allura descended after the cat. Keith walked next to Allura, ready to catch her if she stumbled, but for the moment, she kept her back straight as through there was a steel rod strapped to her spine. They all knew that it would take one wrong move to shatter what composure she'd managed to gather on the trip home.

Sarah came last, catching her hair in one hand as the wind whipped it across her face. Reaching back with her other hand, she pulled it back then restrained it with a neat double twist. A few strands wouldn't be restrained, however, and danced in the wind. Her golden eyes held nothing but concern and sympathy for them all, but especially for Allura. To her, Coran had been more than the castle diplomat: after her father died, he'd become a father figure as she grew older. He'd never tried to replace her father in her eyes, and was all the more respected for it. Though he'd had trouble overcoming his vision of her as a child, he'd allowed her more and more freedoms than usual, and Allura appreciated it.

Nanny, on the other hand, still insisted on seeing Allura as a child who needed her guidance, when the reverse was true. Allura had been an adult, both emotionally and legally, for close to five years now, and yet Nanny couldn't let go. In Sarah's opinion, she should have been shown the door some time ago, or told to butt out of the princess's business, but Allura loved her, for reasons that escaped Sarah. For that reason alone, she didn't say anything to Allura about it, and made sure her thoughts didn't leak to anyone but her cat.

_Speaking of which,_ she chuckled to herself, pressing a button that raised the ramp behind her. "Making new friends already, Proton?" she asked with a small smile, rubbing her ears and making no move to take her from Pidge. Proton closed her eyes in pleasure, and settled deeper in Pidge's arms. "She doesn't usually take to strangers, so you must be a good person for her to jump into your arms like that."

"Thank you," Pidge replied, a little mystified by the cat in his arms. "Do you want to take her?"

"Hang onto her for me for a little while," Sarah answered with a chuckle. "She's comfortable, and I might get scratched if I moved her before she's ready." Looking over at Allura, who stood speaking quietly to Lance with the ever-watchful Keith by her side, she sighed a little. "Is there someone I can call or something else I can do? To be honest, now that I've brought them here, I feel kind of superfluous."

"We'll find something, I'm sure," Pidge said with a small smile. "How are you at diplomacy?"

"I'm a mechanic. There's no such thing as diplomacy when you're dealing with stubborn nuts, bolts and parts. You can't exactly talk them loose or into place. Why do you ask?"

"We've got some people coming from our closest allies, and we'll need all the help we can got keeping everyone in line," Keith broke in, stepping away from Allura for a moment. He knew Lance would catch her if she fell, but he was ready to do so himself if she needed it. "They won't hesitate to take advantage of the situation if they can. Some of them weren't too happy with how many concessions we got from them a few years ago."

"I see," Sarah mused, tucking one of the wayward strands of hair behind her ear. "So basically, you're asking for a bouncer to keep an eye on the troublemakers."

"Yes."

"I can do that," she answered with a shrug. "I'm used to that." She shivered as the first drops of rain fell on them. "How about we get inside before this gets much worse? The last thing we need is for everyone to get sick right before the funeral." She followed the others as they led the way to the castle, not objecting to Nanny leading her to a room where she could get some sleep before the diplomats started arriving the morning. Nanny spent most of the trip to the room prepared for Sarah sniffling into a handkerchief, the occasional tear running down her cheek. Again, Sarah said nothing, letting Nanny control herself on her own, which is what Nanny wanted anyway. Public displays of grief, along with affection, didn't come to the woman easily, especially as Allura grew older.


	3. Tribute To The Fallen

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Voltron, and never will. I'm not making any money off of this story, either. With all the legal stuff out of the way, let's get back to the story.

**AN:** Special thanks to MaraJadeKenobi, for reminding me this chapter has to exist. Without it, everything that happens later won't make sense. Let's hope it gives enough insight into the next chapter that I don't have to spend the rest of the story explaining everything. Also, I have no experience with a state funeral, so bear with me, everyone.

* * *

**Planet Arus: Castle of Lions**

After stowing her bag, she wandered the castle for a time, giving the impression that she was studying the layout so she wouldn't get lost later. She was actually heading to the hangars, wanting to look around a little before dinner. The time difference is going to take a little getting used to, she thought to herself, walking down corridor after corridor, hoping to find them without help. When I left, it was after midnight, but here it's only an hour or so before sundown. A sound made her pause, tilting her head a little to hear better if it came again. When it did, she realized it was the sound of weeping. She went around the corner, and saw Allura leaning against the wall, hands covering her face, but not stopping the flow of tears. "Allura," she said softly, compassionately. Allura jumped a little at her voice, and she swiped at the tears on her cheeks.

"Oh, Sarah," she answered, trying but failing to smile at her. "I didn't know you were there."

"Obviously," she replied, coming to a stop in front of Allura. Her eyes were red and puffy from weeping, and Sarah could see signs of a headache starting to make itself known on her face. "Is there an exercise room somewhere around here?"

"Why?" Allura asked, pushing off the wall automatically to lead her where she wanted to go.

"You'll see when we get there," Sarah promised, already going over what she was going to do when she got there. Allura needed an outlet, and tears weren't going to be enough, not for her. There was a lot of emotion bottled up inside her, and it was going to take more than a few tears to get it all out. Nothing like a few body slams to perk up someone's day.

Allura led her down the hallways toward the exercise room, wondering what Sarah was up to. She wanted to be left alone, but she couldn't ignore a guest's request. Though she was sure that her castle was less complex than Sarah's, the manners that both Nanny and Coran had drilled into her had her leading Sarah to the exercise room. She had no clue why she'd asked to go there, but she figured she'd find out soon enough.

"Have the guys taught you fencing?"

"Not really," Allura answered, shrugging a shoulder. "Between one thing and another, there just hasn't been time." She glanced at Sarah, seeing only mild curiosity on her face. "Why do you ask?"

"Just making conversation, Allura," she replied, giving her a half-smile. "Other than collecting, hacking and working on engines, I've spent quite a bit of time working on fencing and other fighting techniques. I have to practice for at least two hours a day to keep my current level of ability. Not unlike flying, I imagine."

"Practice certainly makes perfect," Allura agreed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "That's what Keith always says, anyway."

"Is he always that bossy?"

"More than you'd believe," she answered with a wry chuckle. "We don't use the exercise room very much. When the weather's good, we practice outside, or we spend our time flying. If we're not doing that, we're working on other things, repairs to the Lions, homes and other buildings between attacks."

"Never a dull moment on Arus, then," Sarah said dryly, making Allura laugh again.

"You could say that." They reached a door and it opened, Sarah whistled softly. A practice dummy hung from a pulley system, facilitating better practice at a moving target without injury to another person. Practice mats covered a good deal of space on one side of the room, while along the back wall, racks of weapons stood leaning against the wall, covering more than half of the thirty foot wall. The weapons ranged from wood to metal, and from daggers to swords and blasters. All the blasters were functional, in various sizes from pistols to riffles. Free weights and exercise machines took up another corner, and from the look of them, the last person to use them was Hunk.

"I need something like this," Sarah muttered to herself, envious of the space and equipment.

"Don't you?"

"Not really," Sarah answered with a shrug. "I move around too much for something this elaborate." They stood in silence for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts.

"Well, I hate to seem rude, but I've got things to see to for tomorrow. I must go." She turned to leave.

"Actually, Princess, I wonder if I could have a few more minutes of your time."

"Yes?"

"I wonder if you might do me a favor." Allura turned to face her again, the question in her eyes with a healthy dose of wariness. "I want you to hit me."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Hit me," she repeated, keeping her hands out to her sides. "If you can plant me on my butt, with one punch, I'll do whatever you ask tomorrow without question or complaint."

"That's your favor?" Allura asked, her eyebrows lifting in surprise. Sarah nodded, her expression open, honest in her request. "Why?"

"You want to hit something," she answered, jerking her chin at the dummy, "and not the dummy over there. I'm making myself a willing target, instead of, say, Nanny, or some idiotic diplomat who says the wrong thing tomorrow." She studied Allura, and beneath the surprise of her request and the grief of Coran's loss, was a great deal of anger. Sarah understood that, and knew that it needed a constructive outlet. A round or two on the practice mats would help enormously.

"I don't understand."

"That's the first step to true wisdom, Princess," Sarah replied with a small smile. She led Allura to the practice mats and turned so her back was to them. "Now, hit me."

"I-"

"Come on, don't be such a girl. Picture me as Haggar if it helps, and I know more than one person who wouldn't miss a chance to plant one on her." A small smile crossed Sarah's face again. "Even with everything that old witch has put you, your friends and your people through, you still can't just rear back and let her have it?" She snorted. "Either you're that compassionate or you're that good at-" Her head snapped back and though she stumbled, she didn't fall. She hadn't seen the blow coming, and that impressed her. "Nice shot. I think you loosened a couple of my teeth with that one. Care to try again?"

"I don't think I've ever hit anyone- other than Lotor when I could- outside of practice before."

"How'd it feel?"

"Thinking you were Haggar? Really good."

"Feel up to another round?"

"You're on."

* * *

Keith found them there two hours later, the door opening just as Sarah landed on the mat with a bone-jarring thud. Despite how much her landing must have hurt, she was on her feet again in an instant, repaying the body toss with a couple of punches and a quick kick to Allura's abdomen, which never landed. Though Allura was giving it her all, he could tell that Sarah was holding back, giving Allura an outlet for the grief and anger that had been fighting for supremacy in her since they'd heard the news. As much as he'd like to let it continue, other things still needed to be done. "Nice work, ladies," he called, distracting Sarah just enough to earn her another hard landing on the mats. "Sorry, Sarah," he apologized, crossing the room quickly to give her a hand up.

"I think I'll just," Sarah panted, her eyes closed, "lay here for now."

"Are you all right?" Allura asked, bent at the waist with her hands on her knees as she fought to get her breath back, too.

"Wind knocked out of me," she answered, weakly waving a hand in dismissal of their concern. "Be fine in a minute."

"I just came by to let you know that dinner's ready," Keith said a bit lamely, rubbing the back of his neck, "and no one wants to start without you two."

"If we don't hurry, Hunk will eat the furniture before we get there," Allura laughed, straightening and tucking a few strand of hair behind her ear. Sarah sat up and slowly got to her feet.

"Oof, bruises," she muttered, rubbing her hip where one of Allura's kicks has slipped through her guard and pitched her across the mat.

"You let me wipe the mats with you," Allura accused, glaring at Sarah. The glare, and the statement behind it, let Sarah know that Allura had seen through her attempts to hide her skill.

"Of course I did," she answered with a shrug and a smile. "I have black belts in several forms of martial arts. It wouldn't have done any good to wipe the floor with you. I don't think it would have been wise to go to the funeral with black eyes, a split lip and more bruises than you could count." She chuckled a little. "You're quick, and you manage to pack a lot of power into a blow without a lot of room to work with." She looked at Keith and raised an eyebrow. "You might think about advancing her training. She might just outdistance you." She stretched, feeling the pull and ache of abused muscles and the glow of a job well done. "Let's go eat before it's cold, and then get some of the details seen to before bed."

"Sounds good to me," Keith and Allura replied together, leading Sarah from the room.

Sarah lay in bed that night, wondering about what might happen after the funeral. She supposed she could head back to Constanta and finish the repairs on Brown Lion, or head to The Waystation early and get a head start on the repairs that were doubtless waiting for her. With a sigh, she rolled over to stare at the ceiling.

She'd planned on repairing Brown Lion, then returning it with the key, but Coran's unexpected death had thrown a big wrench in her plans. Things would have to be shifted, hopefully not permanently and for the better, before she could leave Arus and Brown Lion behind for a time.

The funeral would be well attended, as Coran had been deeply respected by many and, as far as she could tell, just by being who he was. That was something Sarah appreciated enormously, as she had seen it only rarely. She, herself, had met very few like him, and she'd come to realize just how truly rare and extraordinary people like Coran were. Most weren't appreciated, while others were so subtle about how they led people that they didn't know they were being guided. Coran was both: by force of personality and subtle suggestions, he got exactly what he wanted with a minimum of fuss.

_Perhaps I should tell that to Allura_, she mused with a small smile. _It would certainly make a nice addition to the eulogy._ She yawned. It was going to be a busy day tomorrow, and she'd need all the rest she could get. Turning onto her side, she pulled the covers up to her chin and went to sleep.

* * *

The day dawned clear and warm, almost unseasonably so, with only a few white clouds to mar the perfect blue sky. Sarah was among the few awake as the sun came up in a blaze of glory over the distant mountains. She watched it from the roof, always amazed at the colors and possibilities each new day brought with it. Soon enough, the colors would fade, but the possibilities would remain. Already, various dignitaries were arriving, and she would have to go down to begin keeping an eye on them. Keith and Allura had already given her a brief history of who was coming, and which ones were the most likely to start trouble.

Sarah thought of diplomats as a sort of necessary evil: while most were good at what they did, others thought their office gave them a license to do what they wanted without thought of the consequences. Those were the type that drove her straight up the wall, and she knew there were a couple in the group she'd be meeting and she'd have to watch her tongue. With a sigh, she turned and headed downstairs toward the tarmac.

Halfway there, she came upon Allura, her eyes red and puffy from a mix of weeping and a restless night. "May I ask what it is you think you're doing?" she asked, one eyebrow lifted in surprise at seeing her still on her feet.

"I have to meet the ambassadors," Allura replied, surprise and wariness in her eyes. Sarah studied her, seeing past the outward signs of grief, and saw weariness and a headache lurking behind her eyes.

"You'll do no such thing, Princess," Sarah told her, crossing her arms over her chest. "That's my job today."

"They're expecting me."

"They most certainly are not. Allowances are made in these types of situations and no one will be surprised or offended if you're not there." She pushed a hand through her hair and sighed. "Go back to your room and get some sleep. There's time before we leave, and I suggest you use it. You look terrible."

"That's not very polite, Sarah."

"I'm saving all my tact and diplomacy for the ambassadors downstairs, Princess," Sarah answered with a shrug. "Go sleep for a while, and wash your face. If those folks down there see you like this, it could mean trouble. They'll pounce on any sign of weakness just now."

"You're going to insist?"

"As a matter of fact, I am."

"All right, Sarah. I'll leave the ambassadors to you for now. Good luck, and try not to dissolve any of the treaties we worked so hard on."

"I'll do my best," Sarah agreed with a nod. "Now go to bed."

"Yes, Mother."

"I like her," Sarah chuckled to Proton, not surprised that the cat had chosen that moment to make herself known, once Allura was out of earshot.

_I never would have guessed,_ Proton replied with a laugh of her own.

"Go with her, kitten. You know what to do."

_See you later, Sarah._

_Be careful, Proton._

_Always, Sarah. You'd better hurry, or you'll be late._

* * *

State funerals, by definition, are long and involved affairs, best avoided if one could help it. Sarah would have, but Keith and Allura had double-teamed her, saying they'd need her help to keep an eye on things. _No one to blame but myself for that,_ she thought to herself with a sigh. An argument had almost come to blows just as she'd arrived and it had taken some very fast-talking to defuse the situation. Nothing, as far as she was concerned, settled diplomats faster than flattery, other than cool reason, and she could flatter and cajole with the best of them. Sven and Romelle, though newly arrived as she'd walked onto the tarmac, had lent their help. Bandor, they explained when it was over, wasn't able to come because of rumors of attacks on cargo lines.

Following the carriage carrying Coran's coffin a few steps behind the Voltron Force, and somewhere in the middle of the ambassadors, Sarah looked up at the sky. She knew the possibilities of the day hadn't passed yet. It was one reason that the castle guards were on high alert, watching and listening for anything out of the ordinary. With so many important people in one place, if Lotor or Zarcon attacked now, it would be disastrous.

Which was another reason she was there. Despite the dress, heavy and sweltering in the heat, she could still move fast enough to protect herself and others. For all that she tried to deny it, she was better off with the funeral procession and in a position to do the most good should something happen. She sighed and shook her head.

"Did you know that you have red in your hair, Lady Sarah?" one of the ambassadors, a young man of remarkable good sense and intelligence named Tanis. He hailed from one of the farther planets, Sarah couldn't remember which, and didn't look to be older than she was. She looked over her shoulder and smiled delightedly at him, inwardly cursing her lack of control.

"Of course, my Lord," she answered, tossing her hair over her shoulder with a negligent flick of her wrist. "It only comes out in strong sunlight like this."

"Ah, I see." The rest of the trip passed in respectful silence, broken only by the rattle of the carriage and the slow measured steps of mourners and horses. When they reached the church, slightly over a mile from the castle, Keith, Sven, Lance, Hunk and two of the castle guards carried the coffin down the nave to a pedestal in front of the altar, setting it down with extreme care as if the occupant were a very light sleeper.

"Ladies and gentleman, visiting ambassadors and friends," the priest began as everyone assumed their seats, "we are gathered here to remember a fallen comrade. He was wise in the ways of diplomacy, but also in the ways of being a friend." Sarah respectfully worked to control her yawns as the priest droned on and on, exalting over Coran's slightest triumphs, making the man seem more than human. Allura, when she stood to deliver her eulogy, spoke to the effect that he was a great man, well respected and well loved by all who knew him, and how rare his type of person was. Her speech was as eloquent and heartfelt as it was brief. Coran, she explained, was not one for flowery speeches when plain speaking would suffice. Keith, Sven and Romelle each took a turn, all of them speaking straight from the heart. "If everyone would please stand," the priest said, raising both hands in front of him. _Finally,_ Sarah thought to herself in relief as she got to her feet with everyone else.

A line formed to pass the coffin and say any final words, and quickly became long enough to stretch out of the church. Those who knew him well were at the front, but the line included diplomats and their aides, maids and mechanics, and, of course, the Voltron Force. Somehow, Sarah found herself at the front of the line of ambassadors, just behind Sven and Romelle. _If I'm going to wait,_ she thought, irritated, _I might as well make it worth my while._ She concentrated and made an imperceptible gesture with one hand. A woman's voice started to sing, her voice soft but it reached even those who waited outside.

Everyone looked around but couldn't identify the singer, for her voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. "What's that?" Romelle asked Sven quietly, her eyes shining as she listened. "It seems I should know it." Sven shrugged, not having an answer for her.

"It's an old Earth song, Majesty," Sarah said, leaning toward her a little. "It's called 'Con Te Partiro', 'Time to Say Goodbye'."

"Did you have something to do with this, Sarah?" Sven wanted to know, looking over his shoulder at her.

"Maybe a little." She smiled a little at him. "It seemed appropriate."

"What's it about?" Romelle wondered, listening intently now.

"It's about how though we have to say goodbye, that no existence, no life is small to those left behind. If we knew them, they touched our lives and we should respect, at the very least, them for it, whether for good or bad. Every experience shapes your life as you go along the road of life, and who you are at the end is counted by those who your life touched and you can't know the true shape of a person's life until they pass from our sight for the last time." She sighed, a reminiscent smile hovering around her lips. "I love the Italians." Sven and Romelle turned away for their turn to pay their respects. Romelle was quick but eloquent, and Sven leaned down to whisper, his voice thick with emotion. Though he spoke quietly, Sarah had no trouble translating, "I will miss you, old friend. Sleep well."

Sarah stepped up for her turn, and gazed down upon Coran. He appeared tranquil and calm in his repose, as if death had recognized his greatness and honored him by removing all traces of his worldly cares. She knew him only through others, and by what they said and how they said it. Through them, she had come to respect him as a person and those he fought with for what they represented: freedom from Zarcon's tyranny. "You will be remembered, Coran," she found herself saying, unaware of the thoughts leaving her lips until she spoke. "Rest well knowing the fight will continue, and lend those who fight what strength and wisdom you can so they fight well and honorably. Safe passage, sir."

"Well said," a voice murmured beside her, causing her to turn. Araric, captain of the castle guard, stood at her side. Sarah had found him to be an entirely capable and likable man.

"I thought you were at the castle," she said, moving aside so the ambassadors could file passed.

"A message came for you," he replied with a shrug. "The man seemed most insistent to talk to you."

"Who was it?"

"He said his name was Shapour and he wanted you to get in touch with Ciarrann," the captain told her, scanning the crowd now and so missed the way she stiffened beside him. "He said it's a matter of life and death." Sarah heaved an aggravated sigh and pushed a hand through her hair.

"Of course it is," she grumbled, watching the line of people. The line seemed to have gotten longer while they'd talked, though the ambassadors were finished and looking to her for instructions. "I have to finish here, then I can call Ciarrann." She paused. "Did Shapour say where he was calling from?"

"A Border Patrol outpost, my Lady."

"I thought so," she said with another sigh. "Thank you, captain. I'm sorry you were pulled away from the castle to deliver a message."

"It's no trouble, my Lady." If he had any questions, he wisely kept them to himself and took a moment to pay his respects to Coran. It was more than an hour before the last mourner was finished, and Sarah's hold on her temper became increasingly frayed as she waited. Not trusting her diplomatic tact, she moved to Sven and asked him to convey her sympathies to everyone, explain that an emergency had come up and she must leave immediately. He nodded, telling her that he would, and she slipped out of the church, all but unnoticed by everyone. Those who did see her saw someone else, walking proudly with silent tears running down her face and not looking back.

* * *

**AN:** Longer chapter than usual, I know, but it needed to be to get everything I wanted in it. On to the next chapter!


	4. Bail and Intimidation

**Disclaimer:** Once again, I don't own it, as much as I'd like to. I think it would be kind of fun. Anyway, since I don't, I have to type this so I don't get sued. I'm just having fun with established characters, while hopefully staying true to the story itself. The only characters I own are any of the new ones that happen to pop up.

* * *

**Takeda: Near Forbidden Territory**

"Shapour, I thought I told you to forget you knew me," Ciarrann Smith said as Shapour walked to her, rubbing his wrists where the binders had chafed. "I also distinctly remember telling you that I wouldn't bail you out again if you got in trouble." Tossing her wine red hair over her shoulder with a practiced toss of her head, she studied him with green and gold eyes. Her eyes were the biggest clues to her mood, but even then it wasn't easy. With her, you never knew if she was going to smile or throw a right hook right into your chin. She was a hard woman, and had become so out of necessity, being one of the few female assassins in the business. Though her body gave men fantasies of heaven, her eyes offered glimpses of hell when angered. They snapped at him now, but hadn't yet turned to amber, so he knew she was annoyed with him, but not yet angry with him.

"It's a bogus charge," he defended himself, falling into step beside her when she turned to leave the brig. Usually, he had to check his stride to walk beside a woman, but with her, he didn't have to shorten his very much to match her stride. Standing at a little over six and a half feet, he appreciated that about her.

"Then why did I have to explain to the Border Patrol that you're mentally unstable and didn't know what you were doing when you broke that officer's leg?"

"Because you love me?" He made the unfortunate mistake of making it sound like a question. She raised a wine red eyebrow at him. "All right, all right! So maybe the charge wasn't completely bogus, but that guy had it coming."

"I'll never understand you, Shapour," she told him with a pitying shake of her head.

"You do, you just don't know it." Ciarrann muttered something under her breath in a language he didn't know, and he knew many. Someone in his line of work often had to deal in other languages, and be at least competent if not fluent so he didn't get taken in when making a business deal. "What was that?"

"None of your business."

"Speaking of business," he started but her look cut him off. It made him think of long, sharp daggers piercing his flesh and her walking away to leave him bleeding, if not dead, where he fell and thinking no more about him.

"Whatever it is, no," she stated, tossing her braid back over her shoulder with a quick flick of her hand, another sign of her ire. She was rapidly losing patience with him, and it was starting to show.

"Come on, Ciarrann," he said, not above begging to get his best assassin a job. She had made him piles of money in the year she had worked for him before she went solo. It hadn't been easy to lose the income she generated, but he'd made do, investing most of every commission in a perfectly legal account that steadily built interest. "They're offering three times your normal fee."

"Who is? And why three?"

"Beats me, but apparently they want the best and you're it."

"You don't know who it is?" Shapour looked down at his boots and shook his head, knowing better than to look her in the eye when he told that little white lie. She always caught him, no matter how much he tried to hide it. "No."

"Ciarrann-"

"No, Shapour. If they're paying that much, why don't you do it?"

"Like I said, they want the best."

"I'm not doing it just because you want your usual cut of the profits. Even if I did, I'm thinking about keeping it, too, to pay for your bail." He paled under his deep tan and his eyes widened in shock. He hadn't known she'd go that far in her refusal, and his bail had been considerable. There was more going on here than he knew, and as usual, Ciarrann wasn't giving anything away.

"You wouldn't."

"I would. You have no idea how much trouble you've caused me just coming here." Shapour stood, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he considered.

"All right." He sighed, giving in. He should have done it in the first place, but he was desperate. "Her name is Nonna Tomanello and she says she'll give more details about the job as soon as she receives confirmation from you."

"Sorry, can't do it."

"Why not?"

"I've gotten out of that business."

"When?"

"Three years ago. I'm not for hire anymore."

"You said that five years ago, too."

"This time it's for good." She glared at him, her eyes shooting sparks. "I took that last job as a favor to you. You've called them all in, Shapour. I'm not doing it anymore. Not only that, I'm very busy these days. Your call took me away from a very important project, and I can't make up the time. I only came because even though I don't work for you anymore, I respect and see you as a friend."

"There are limits to friendship, and I understand that," Shapour said, pushing a hand through his hair. "It can't hurt to meet with her and turn her down in person, though. You've already come this far." Ciarrann sighed, most of her anger and frustration fading.

"Where is she asking to meet?"

"Murphy's, two days from now."

"I'll see what I can do. I'm not making any promises, Shapour, just that I'll try."

"That's all I'm asking."

"You're still paying me back, with interest, for your bail."

"Low blow, Ciarrann."

"But effective," she returned with a laugh and left him, heading for her ship. Curled on the tarmac, beside her ship, was a black kitten. "Well, hello," she said to the cat, tilting her head a little to study it as it stretched, waking at the sound of her voice. The kitten yawned, showing little sharp teeth, before it looked up at her. Ciarrann started in surprise: the kitten's eyes were purple. "You have the prettiest eyes I've seen in a cat."

_My mother gave them to me_, the kitten replied, sitting up and washing one paw.

"That was very generous of her," Ciarrann laughed, crouching to get a closer look. The kitten's fur was true black, so deep it glinted with blue highlights, and aside from the purple eyes, looked like a normal, healthy twelve-week-old kitten. "Where is you mother, little one?"

_She was adopted a week ago,_ the kitten answered, looking down, its little whiskers drooping a little. _Unfortunately, that adoption didn't include me._

"It does now," she said, reaching out with one hand. The kitten sniffed it, then moved under it, inviting a stroke. Ciarrann obliged, giving its silky ears a rub before gently picking it up. "You can come home with me, little one."

_I'm hungry._

"I'm not surprised," Ciarrann replied with another laugh, pressing a button on the ship. The entrance ramp lowered and she carried the kitten on board, stopping at the galley for some food for both her and the kitten. Two days later, as arranged, Ciarrann was already seated when Nonna arrived at the hole in the wall where she'd insisted they meet. Murphy's was two steps up from a dive and suited Ciarrann perfectly, and she liked the owner. Murphy was an old friend, and she'd been coming there off and on since he'd opened five years before.

She was sitting with her back to the wall, an untouched drink in front of her. When Nonna sat down, Ciarrann just ignored her, pointedly looking right through her for a moment. "Does it absolutely, positively have to be destroyed overnight?" she asked, focusing her green gaze on her. "If so, let me know where and what it is, and it'll be done by morning."

"Nothing like that," Nonna said, amused and impressed, "though it may become necessary later."

"Then why am I here? People call me when they want something done as quickly and as quietly as possible." Studying her, Ciarrann pegged her as someone, while capable, preferred someone else to do her dirty work for her. It was there in the way she carried herself, shoulders back and chin lifted in a way that made her think of nobility . . . or stubbornness. Though she wasn't going to take the job, she was interested in seeing just who this woman wanted eliminated.

"That's exactly what I want."

"Who's the target?"

"The Voltron Force."

"You've got to be kidding," Ciarrann said, pushing away from the table. She might have been a mercenary, but she wasn't stupid. Anyone who went against the Voltron Force had a death wish. Zarcon and Lotor had been trying for years to get rid of them, and while they came close time after time, they never could finish them. They were too arrogant to just pull the trigger or hit the detonator before they regrouped and ended up winning the day.

"I never kid," Nonna informed her, reaching out and grabbing her wrist to stop her from standing. Almost before she knew what was going on, she was pinned against the wall, Ciarrann's forearm pressing against her throat. "Release me," she choked out, knowing better than to struggle. She couldn't budge Ciarrann's arm: she would be released when Ciarrann let go, and not a moment sooner.

"In a minute." Ciarrann looked at her, her green eyes shooting fire. "No one has managed to stop the Voltron Force and not for lack of trying. It's just not possible."

"Why do you think I'm offering you three times your normal fee?" she managed as spots danced before her eyes.

"Why them?"

"Are you going to do it or not?" Ciarrann glared at her for another few moments then released her hold on Nonna. She took a few moments to get her breath back, leaning against the wall a little when her legs threatened to give out from under her. "Well?" Nonna prompted when she said nothing, just stood there watching her.

"No."

"Why?"

"I may be a mercenary, but I value my life a little too highly to take them on." She turned and started walking away.

"Four, then."

"Get someone else, lady. I'm out of that line of business."

"Once a mercenary, always a mercenary." Conversation stopped and everyone turned to look at them. There was not a sound: no shifting of seats or scuffling feet. Everyone in the bar knew what Ciarrann was capable of, and that this woman would taunt her like that was beyond imagining. While they hoped that Ciarrann would finish her, they also knew it was safer to stay out of her way. Ciarrann stiffened and turned around slowly, her face schooled into a blank mask. Nonna felt her heart pound and the bottom dropped out of her stomach, but she stood her ground.

"I'm not going to say it anymore after this," she said, gold spokes appearing in her eyes. "I'm not for hire anymore."

"Then why'd you come here?"

"To see how full of shit you were. Lady, you're so full of it, your eyes are brown." It was Nonna's turn to stiffen.

"Six." Ciarrann turned and headed for the door, patrons moving out of her way. "Ten, then." Ciarrann continued toward the door. "I'll go to Galaxy Garrison with what I know about you." Ciarrann stopped just feet from the door.

"And just what are you going to tell them?" she asked without turning around. "Go ahead: tell them what you want. They'll never find me. I'm not the best mercenary in the universe for nothing, you know." She took a step as though she'd continue on her way, but instead she whirled around, a throwing knife appearing in her hand and threw it in the same motion. It came so close to her ear that she heard the blade cut the air before it landed with a solid thunk in the wall behind her head, taking a few hairs with it. "Think about that, before you do anything rash," she said as she retrieved the knife from the wall. She turned and walked out of the bar.

"You have no idea who you just messed with, lady," the bartender told her as she sank limply down into her chair. "If you want to live for a while longer, I suggest you forget you ever met her." He set the shot of whiskey he'd poured for her on the table.

"What do you know about her?" she asked, picking up the shot glass and downing the whole shot with one swallow.

"No one knows much about her," he confessed, "but everyone who comes in here knows not to mess with her. She's a thermal grenade, and you tread around her with care if you don't want to get blown up."

"I'll take my chances."

"Just don't say I didn't warn you," he cautioned, pouring her another shot.

"Mind your own business," Nonna growled and polished off the second shot. She dropped some credits on the table and left the bar. Once she was out of sight, normal activity resumed.

"Hey, Murphy," said a much missed voice from the door. He turned and smiled broadly.

"Well, well, if it isn't Sarah! Stop propping up my door and get yourself in here."

"Did I miss anything?" she asked as she sat at the bar, automatically taking the drink he passed her. Murphy always had a drink ready for her. He'd been a pilot before he'd opened the bar, and had been a regular at the Waystation. He was the only one she couldn't intimidate, and they'd been fast friends ever since his ship had come limping into the hangar.

"Just some idiot who messed with Ciarrann," he replied, taking a seat next to her, a drink of his own in his hand.

"What'd she want?" she wondered, taking a sip of her drink.

"To hire her." Sarah choked on the sip she'd taken. Coughing and wheezing, she stared at Murphy out of watering eyes for a full minute before she got her voice back.

"You're kidding me! Ciarrann got out of that business a long time ago!"

"Well, this lady didn't seem to understand that."

"And yet she lives?"

"Yeah, more's the pity. Ciarrann should have at least injured her a little."

"That wouldn't have proved anything, Murph, you know that," Sarah said, calming down, sipping her drink again. She knew she'd made a spectacle of herself, and didn't want to do it again. Many of the regulars here were familiar faces at the Waystation, and she couldn't afford to have them think she couldn't hold her liquor. She could- and had- drunk them under the table several times, but it only took one wrong swallow to lose respect among that crew and she knew it.

"Yeah, I know that," he replied, taking his own shot with one swallow.

"Did she leave?"

"Just before you came in."

"Do you know where she was going?"

"Probably following Ciarrann."

"Brave woman."

"Or brick stupid. Why are you so interested in her?" Sarah polished off her drink.

"Just so I know who to send the body home to," Sarah answered with a shrug, reaching into her pocket. Murphy shook his head, knowing she'd pay him later anyway. It was just the way she was, and one of the reasons he liked her.

"On the house, Sarah."

"Thanks, Murph. I'll see you around."

"Don't be a stranger." Giving him a brilliant smile, she hopped off the stool and waved briefly from the door before she disappeared.

"Hey, Murph," called a regular. "How come you give her free drinks but not me?"

"Because she pays her tab on time with interest," he replied, going back behind the bar. "You still owe me more than your ship is worth."

* * *

**To Be Continued . . .**


	5. Truth Or Lies?

**Disclaimer:** It's still not mine, I don't own it . . . much as I'd like to. I only own Dusty, Brown Lion and any new characters who might pop up. It's been fun working with Dusty and crew, and I hope to have more fun with other characters in the future.

**

* * *

**

Planet Vasudka: The Waystation

Sarah looked over the _Reliant_ as it touched down in the hangar and sighed, thinking of all the sleepless nights she'd spent working on it, the bashed knuckles and engine grease in her hair just to get it working after the last time. She knew there'd be many more to get it back in shape again. "What did you do to my ship, Gregory?" she asked as the crew descended the ramp followed by their captain. Gregory looked over Sarah's shoulder and saw his crew beating a hasty retreat, the cowards, leaving their captain to deal with her on his own. Sarah weighed half as much as he did and, even with her height, barely reached his chin, but it didn't stop his stomach from clenching in fear at the kill lights in her eyes.

"It wasn't me, Sarah," Gregory replied, holding both hands up in defense as she brandished a one-and-a-half wrench in one hand and a screwdriver in the other. Like most captains, he had a healthy respect for mechanics, because without them whole fleets could fall apart, and knew better than to make one angry. Sarah was well beyond angry and wasn't afraid to show it. "I swear it wasn't."

"Who was it?" she demanded, advancing menacingly one step at a time. He backed up until he had his back hard up against the hull and Sarah in front of him. He'd been backed into a corner by a woman half his weight. Mortifying. It didn't help that she looked ready to brain him with the wrench and then drive the screwdriver through his heart.

"I don't know," he answered, speaking quickly before she followed through on the threat in her eyes. "I'd never seen ships like that before."

"Did you get pictures?" she asked, managing not to sound as curious as she felt. It had been three months since she'd gotten to Aldera and from there she'd been sent to Vasudka. She'd been working almost nonstop since she'd gotten there, but this was the first time one of the prototypes had come in.

"They're in the log." He smiled cautiously. "Please don't hurt me. I just got here." Sarah rested the wrench against her shoulder and put the screwdriver back in its loop in her toolbox. "Thanks, Sarah."

"Tell me that when I send you my bill," she said, shaking her head as she looked over the ship. "You really let it get messed up this time, Gregory. You're going to owe me big."

"Want me to send Griffiths over?" He slid past her when she backed up, seeing his chance at escape and taking it.

"No. He gets in the way more often than he helps." She pinned him with a glare. "Out. I don't want to see you or your crew until this is over with."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, snapping her a salute. He got while the getting was good. Sarah looked up at the ship and sighed again.

"It's going to be a long week," she muttered as she dropped the big wrench into its place on her tool cart. It took a week of almost no sleep, and an almost entire overhaul of the computer to get the _Reliant_ back in shape again. "I guess the shields have proven themselves," she muttered to herself, wiping the grease off her hands with a shop rag. "Don't let it happen again, Gregory," Sarah said as the crew filed back into the hangar and onto the ship. "You still owe me from the last time. What the hell do you do in a year?"

"You'd be surprised, Sarah," he replied. "Did you get the pictures?"

"Downloaded to my computer," she confirmed, nodding.

"Have you figured it out?"

"I've been too busy fixing my ship to look at them."

"You'll let me know what you find?"

"You'll be the first. Meanwhile, spread the word to the other captains, would you? I don't need another week like this one." Gregory nodded and boarded the ship and no sooner had it left the hangar and disappeared from sight that another ship came limping in, the same markings on it that the _Reliant_'d had on it. "It's a good thing I'm getting paid extremely well for this," Sarah muttered, picking up her wrench and screwdriver again. "I'm going to kill you, Stephens!" The crew of the _Plundered Treasure_ scattered, deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, deserting the field before Sarah used her wrench on them as well as their captain.

**

* * *

**

Planet Arus: Castle of Lions

Pidge had drawn first shift that night, so right after dinner, he'd gone to the control room. Settling in the chair with his laptop, he pulled up the latest encryption Sarah had left him, and continued working steadily through it. Of the three she'd left, this one was the hardest. He recognized it as a test, and was determined to pass. Sarah had given him a copy of the one from Brown Lion and a promise that if he cracked it before she left for Vasudka, she'd kiss him full on the mouth at dinner in front of the team. Unfortunately, he hadn't broken it, but he'd come close enough for him to earn a kiss on each cheek. He'd blushed a furious red, making her smile and give him a hug. "Keep working on it," she'd said, leaning down a little and pitching her voice for only him to hear, "and let me know when you break it. A deal's a deal, even if it takes longer to accomplish your goal than you planned. Good luck, Pidge."

He barely heard the communicator beep, and almost ignored it when it went off again. Glancing up at the monitor, he was surprised to see that it was coming from Vasudka. Setting his laptop aside for the moment, he pressed the button and found himself looking up into Sarah's face. Her hair had spots of engine grease in it, giving her the look of a jaguar. The intensity in her narrowed golden eyes reinforced the opinion, making him think of the jungle cat, pushed almost beyond endurance. He felt sorry for whoever crossed her path while she was in this state, because she'd probably rip them to shreds and leave what was left behind her without a moment's hesitation. "Hey, Sarah," he said, wondering just what had brought her to this state. "Is something the matter?"

"You could say that, Pidge," she replied, pushing a hand through her hair. Her knuckles were scraped raw, and she had more than a few oil, grease and bloodstains on her coveralls. "I've been busting my butt pretty much since I got here, but things have recently taken a turn for the weird."

"What makes you say that?" he asked, sitting up a little. "Has something happened?"

"I might be losing what's left of my mind," she answered with a humorless chuckle, "but I'm still relatively sane for the moment. The reason I called is that I need some help. Strange ships have started attacking some of the ships I work on, leaving them to limp into the Waystation. I've gotten pictures of the ships and some video from the captains, but haven't had time to look at them. I get the feeling it's going to be vital to learn who's doing this, and I just can't squeeze out the time to do it." Someone behind her called her name, and she held up a hand, keeping whoever it was quiet. "Would you mind looking through them for me?"

"Not to be rude, but couldn't someone there do it?"

"Unfortunately, we're _all_ too busy. It seems that whoever is attacking cargo ships is doing it to large numbers of them, not all of them making it this far. We have a couple squadrons of fighters, but we're using them to bring in ships too heavily damaged to make it on their own. Everyone else is running around like a barnyard of chickens with their heads cut off." Her name was called again, this time more urgently, and she sent a sharp glare over her shoulder this time. Pidge was glad it wasn't directed at him when she turned back to the screen, not all of the annoyance cleared from her face. "I'd really appreciate any help I could get with this, Pidge. Please?"

"All right," he answered, and she gave him a relieved smile. She pressed a few buttons on her end, and a couple minutes later, his laptop signaled the download was finished. "How'd you do that?"

"I have skills you've never dreamed of, my friend," she replied, a smile curving her lips. It didn't quite erase the exhaustion he could see on her face, but it helped. "Thanks, Pidge. Call me when you get something."

"You got it, Sarah. Get back to those ships. I'll take care of the photos for you."

"You're the best, Pidge," she said, blowing him a kiss, winking when he blushed. The screen went black, leaving Pidge alone in the control room once more. He picked up his laptop and started cleaning up the photos up as best as he could before he watched the video. The ships were fast and maneuverable, but they looked like no ships he'd ever seen before. He called up every ship classification that Galaxy Garrison had, everything that had crossed the design table and been rejected or put into use. Nothing quite matched what he was looking for, suggesting that whoever had built these ships had taken the best traits from several different types and combined them into one.

With a sigh, he called for Keith, knowing he'd want to know what was going on. This could be more than attacks on cargo ships, and they didn't need the added worry of pirates in the area on top of everything Zarcon and Lotor threw at them.

**

* * *

**

Planet Vasudka: The Waystation

Sarah hadn't heard from Pidge in almost a week. In truth, it didn't really surprise her: between the time difference and the amount of work she had, it wasn't shocking not to hear from him. He'd left messages, she knew, but she hadn't gotten around to listening to them yet. Though everyone else had dropped from exhaustion, she kept working, somehow finding the energy to tackle what was left of the computers of the _Defiant_. For some reason, the side of the control boards that worked weren't the ones that were lighting up. Something had become crossed in there, and she was determined to find it.

She'd been working for five hours, and was close to figuring out the problem, when she felt someone touch her leg. Crawling out from under the weapons console she'd been working on, she looked up for the other occupant of the bridge. She found him leaning against the console across from her. The man was handsome and, worse, had no doubt about it at all. His black hair had been cut to a middling length and was so dark that it almost appeared blue- though a shade of blue much darker than the icy hue of his eyes. He wore a mustache and goatee, and had grown his mustache out like wings that swept back along his cheeks. "I've been looking everywhere for you," he said, looking her up and down, taking in the grease and oil stains on her coveralls and the streaks of it across her face. "A mechanic on a space station. Never thought you'd go this low, Ciarrann."

"Not here," she said, looking out of the cockpit at all the mechanics, pilots and crews that were in the hangar. He made no protest, and followed her to an empty crew lounge, not surprised she locked the door. "Why did you come looking for me, O'Brian?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest as he took a seat.

"First, why don't you drop the pretense, hmm?" he asked, one eyebrow lifting. "I want to see who you really are." Sarah reached for the leads behind the security camera and jerked them loose before entering his mind and giving him the illusion that she removed a disguise instead of shapeshifting, dropping Sarah for Ciarrann. O'Brian looked her over again. "Hmm, I think I like the other better."

"Why did you come looking for me?" she asked again, her eyes narrowing in mounting annoyance with him.

"I need your services."

"I'm out of that business, O'Brian," she told him, leaning against a wall, the very picture of insolent defiance. She refused to rise to his bait, and knew that he would get to the bottom of what he really wanted eventually. "If Nonna Tomanello sent you, you can go right back to whatever rock she's hiding under and tell her to take her money and go straight to hell."

"No, she didn't send me. I don't even know who you're talking about."

"I'm not going to do it, O'Brian. I got out of that business three years ago."

"I'm willing to offer a substantial amount of money for your help."

"How substantial?" she asked, letting him think he'd intrigued her when all he was really was doing was making her angrier by continuing to exist in the same space she was. He named a sum. Her eyes narrowed. "No."

"That's more than ten times your old rate!"

"That it is," she agreed, "but I told you I'm not in that business anymore. Go away, O'Brian."

"Do you want me to tell your friends about you, Ciarrann? Do you think they'd stick with you if they found out you're a mercenary?"

"How the hell did you find me?" she demanded, ignoring his question. He was rapidly reaching the end of her almost infinite patience, and she was having trouble keeping a leash on her temper. If she let it loose, she would kill him without remorse for daring to interrupt her personal life with his trivial attention seeking. She didn't know who or what he wanted eliminated and she didn't care: he just liked having her under his thumb, dictating his wishes for the job only to change them at the last possible moment. She'd worked for him only once before, and that had been more than enough.

"I've got my ways," he told her, giving her a snarky grin, "just like you've got yours."

"Tracking device," she said, mentally kicking herself for not checking for them before she left Aldera. "Easiest method and the hardest way to find."

"Never could get anything past you." He laughed maliciously. "Are you going to answer my question?"

"No, because it doesn't deserve an answer."

"Don't cross me, Ciarrann. You have no idea who you're messing with."

"No, O'Brian. _You_ have no idea who _you're_ messing with." She pinned him in place with a glare and added a punch of kinesis for effect, knocking him back in his chair when he would have risen. "I was not the best mercenary in the universe for nothing. I'd rather not have to go back to that long enough to make you disappear." She held him there with just a look, making sure he got the message before reverting back to Sarah, again giving the impression that she'd put on a disguise. "Go away, O'Brian. You don't need me, and I don't need you. Leave now and forget you found me, or you won't live all that long to regret it." She spun around and left the lounge, hoping that he took her advice and left.

If she stayed with him in that room for even a moment longer than necessary, she was going to kill him. She knew better than to strain her temper that way. It was a force of nature, and she could feel it straining at its leash, wanting to get that feeble-minded, snake-spined idiot out of everyone's hair permanently. It would probably come back to haunt her, but she restrained herself, and her temper, and got back to work.

**

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**

To Be Continued . . .


	6. Idiot or Genius?

**Disclaimer:** Yeah, yeah. I don't own it, and never will. I'm used to it by now. I just write about what I enjoy and try to have fun doing it. The only characters I own are Dusty, Brown Lion, and any other new characters that might pop up.

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**The Waystation**

Dusty slapped at the alarm clock, irritated that it was going off more than four hours early. When the insistent beeping didn't stop, she leaned up on one elbow and stared with bleary eyes at her computer. It was flashing that there was incoming call, beeping for all it worth to wake her. She sat up with a yawn, Dislodging Proton and Neutron from her stomach, and pushed her hands through her hair. _What is it?_ Proton asked sleepily, opening one green eye as Dusty got up.

_Nothing for you to worry about, kitten,_ Dusty answered, heading for the computer. _Go back to sleep._ Proton yawned, snuggled around Neutron to keep him warm and went back to sleep. Shaking off enough sleep to shift to Sarah, she sat in front of her computer and pressed a few buttons, opening the line. "Hello?" she asked around a yawn.

"I'm so sorry I woke you, Sarah," Pidge replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "I forgot about the time difference."

"I'm up now, Pidge," she said, scrubbing both hands over her face. "What's so important that you had to wake me at this absolutely ungodly hour?"

"I've got those pictures you sent cleaned up," he answered, sending her the file. Roughly boomerang-shaped, the ships bristled with weapons and carried no insignia to identify which group they belonged to. From the video, they were extremely maneuverable and well armored from the look of them.

"This is just great," she muttered, pushing both hands through her hair. Holding it back from her face, she leaned her elbows on the desk and sighed heavily. "These guys are attacking cargo ships, and I don't know who they are."

"We don't, either," Pidge admitted, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Keith, Sven, Lance and I have passed the word around about these folks. Before the funeral, we had gotten word that there were pirates attacking cargo ships, and Bandor has already been made aware of what these particular ships look like, so he's on the lookout for them. We'll probably know more before too much longer."

"I imagine Galaxy Garrison is _very_ interested in who built those ships," Sarah answered with a chuckle. "I'd be more than happy to get them one if I knew where I could my hands on it."

"They can't wait to take it apart and see how it works," he agreed with a laugh of his own. "They've told us that already. However, they asked a question I couldn't answer, not without talking to you."

"What's that?"

"What was on those cargo ships?"

"Mostly relief personnel and supplies for some of the outposts," she replied after a moment to think back, "but most of them, almost all of them as a matter of fact, were on their way _back_ here for routine maintenance when they were attacked. They'd already dropped off their cargo."

"Interesting."

"I don't see how this fits--" Sarah broke off as several pieces that had been missing clicked into place. "Oh, that evil, yellow-livered, snake-spined Neanderthal idiot!"

"What, Sarah?" Pidge demanded, alarmed at her sudden outburst. "Who is it?"

"No one you need to worry about, Pidge," she replied, jumping up to pace. "I've got a marker I can pull in. He won't bother anyone again."

"He _who_, Sarah?" Pidge prodded, and Sarah looked at him. Under the concern for her, she saw fear, both for her and of her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm down.

"I'm sorry, Pidge," she said, straddling her chair. "The idiot I'm talking about has given me and a lot of other people a great deal of trouble. He's never been a nice person, and no, I don't plan on killing him, though I'd be doing the universe a favor if I did." She chuckled a little ruefully at that. "I'm sorry I got so upset, Pidge, but this guy did something to one of my friends that I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive him for, and though it was a few years ago, I still get really hot under the collar when he's involved in something like this."

"I understand," he answered, sitting back in his chair. "Any ideas on where this jerk might be?"

"It won't be too hard to find him, Pidge. Trust me."

"What are you up?"

"I can't say more. It might get you in trouble."

"Spoilsport."

"I know, but _this_ is something I should handle. Thanks for all your help, Pidge."

"No problem, Sarah. Anytime." He reached out to cut communications, but paused. "I broke that last encryption yesterday."

"The one from Brown Lion or the other two?"

"Those two were done last week," he said, a mischievous smile lighting his eyes. "I finished the one from Brown Lion late last night."

"A deal's a deal, Pidge. I'll head for Arus in a few days to give you that kiss I owe you."

"Why a few days?"

"I've still got some things to do here," she replied, laughing at the pout that crossed his face. "I have one last ship in the hangar to fix, and barring any unforeseen problems or attacks, I'll be able to put in for a little vacation time and head that way." She glanced at the alarm clock and quickly calculated the time difference for the person she wanted to contact. "I'll see you in a few days."

"Bye, Sarah." The screen went black and Sarah started punching numbers into her laptop, hoping her friend was home. Even if he wasn't, she'd find him and get him to do some digging into the idiot she'd once called her employer. She would do it herself, but she had better things to do with her time.

* * *

Sarah made the last few adjustments to the engine of the _Nebula Burst_, climbed out of the compartment and started them up. Listening carefully, and feeling the vibrations under her feet, she knew the engine was working to her exacting specifications. Despite O'Brian's interference, and the midnight conversation with Pidge, she was finished ahead of schedule, and was hoping to spend that time catching up on the sleep she'd missed recently. Those pirates, whoever they were, had been doing a real number on her ships, and she had given up a lot of nights to get them back into shape.

The captains were in regular contact with her bosses at the Waystation, letting them know if they saw the pirates or evidence of them again. So far, there was nothing, but she knew it was only a matter of time before they struck again. She sighed, and cut the engines, thinking of all the work she and the other mechanics had done to get the ships in working order again. Most of the repairs wouldn't pass what she was used to doing, but it was the best she could do until they got back to base on Cyton. Her job was, for the most part, just making sure they made it back for further repairs.

After closing and securing the compartment, she checked out the computers one more time. The computers were something she could and did fix, making sure they could get where they were going with as few mishaps as possible. She had computers and machinery together in one job. _How much better can it get?_ she asked herself, straightening and replacing the access panel. She sighed heavily and pushed a hand through her hair. To be honest, a _lot_ better, was the answer to that question.

Through her various identities, she had tried every line of work known to man and most of the other species out there. Most of them just staved off the boredom she was often afflicted with, but almost none of them were very fulfilling. The last rewarding thing she'd done, aside from working on Brown Lion, was working with psychics, and not all of them natural. Someone was tampering with people, and not all of them had volunteered for it. She had been looking into it for some time, and she was getting closer to the one who had masterminded the operation. That business with Shapour had taken time her psychics didn't have to spare, and the attacks by the pirates hadn't helped any.

"Permission to come aboard, ma'am?" a voice called, and she smiled when she recognized it.

"Pidge, what in the world are you doing here?" she asked, coming down the ramp toward him.

"I was hoping to give you a hand," he replied with an innocent smile. It didn't fool her for a minute, but she smiled back.

"I hate to tell you this, but you're too late," she said, putting an arm around his shoulders. "I just finished the final repairs and she's ready to head out."

"I was hoping to get a look under the hood," he groaned, irritated with himself that it had taken him longer than he'd planned to get there. Arranging for a transport hadn't been easy, despite his connections, but he'd caught a break when he was about to give up. A freighter was passing by Arus, heading in the direction he wanted to go, and the captain was more than willing to give him a lift.

"Don't be upset, Pidge," she laughed, giving him a squeeze. "I've saved enough money from this job to buy one of these babies of my own. You can poke and prod to heart's content."

"You sure know the way to a guy's heart, Sarah!"

"Not really, Pidge, I just know you." She chuckled, leading him toward her boss's office. "I also know Hunk. I'm sure you've told him about the ships I work on and his hands are twitching, aching even, to get his hands on the engines."

"You're absolutely right, and he can't wait for us to get back to Arus."

"Well, we're here to see what we can do about that," she said, and knocked on the door.

"Go away!" a gruff voice snapped from the other side of the door. "I'm busy!""

"Is that any way to speak to your best mechanic, Marty?"

"Unless that ship is working again, Monroe, I don't want to see you in here!"

"Oh, and I just came to tell that the ship is ready to leave, too," she replied, pouting a little, but giving Pidge a wink, who did his best to stifle his laughter. The door flew open, and Marty Johnson stepped out. At his best he looked like a warrior, and at his worst a savage fighter. There was no way to soften his expression, or hide the scars on his face, and his stubborn jaw was shadowed with stubble. He was stocky, with a fighter's compact build, carrying most of his weight in his upper body, his chest, his arms and his broad shoulders. His hair was thick and black and tended to curl when it wasn't kept tight to his skull. Almost a head shorter than she was, he still commanded and got enormous respect from everyone who worked for or with him. His piercing blue eyes revealed a shrewd intellect and a drive to get things done, no matter how long it took.

"You wouldn't lie to me, would you, Monroe?"

"Of course not, Marty," she answered with affronted dignity. "What kind of mechanic would I be?" She looked him over, and winced. "Did your wife find out about us again?"

"What are you babbling about now?"

"You look like hell, Marty," she replied with a smile. "You only look like that when the wife kicks you out."

"She didn't kick me out, Monroe. She's off visiting her numerous and extremely annoying family."

"It could have been that little scrap of underwear I left in your bed that did that," she teased, knowing that he was telling the truth. She just wanted to rib him a little. It was also her way of softening him up to get what she wanted. He didn't respond to flattery or threats, and to be completely honest, he liked her and it was his way of expressing it. "I honestly forgot all about it, what with your wife coming in the front door and all."

"You could have just hidden under the bed, you know," he responded, his face absolutely serious. "It would have been easier than crawling out of the window with nothing on. Then again, it was a beautiful sight, watching you squirm out that narrow little window."

"At least you were nice enough to toss my dress out to me when she went back in the kitchen." She paused and looked thoughtful. "Of course, there wasn't much left of it by then, so it didn't cover as much as I had hoped it would."

"Monroe, you're nuts," he laughed, giving her a friendly punch on the arm. "What is it you want?"

"A few days of vacation time. The ship's finished, there haven't been any more attacks, and instead of paying me to sit around with nothing to do, I'm taking a few days off to visit some friends. I won't be far away if you need me."

"The little guy over there, looking like his eyes are about to pop out of his head?"

"He's one of them, yes," she answered with a nod, glancing at Pidge. "Oh, he's blushing! Isn't he cute!"

"Looks just like one of my younger kids," Marty said, chuckling. "Don't mind us, kid. We were just teasing each other."

"He and his lovely wife have been happily married for seventeen--"

"Eighteen years," he corrected, enjoying himself now. "Monroe and I've been teasing each other like this for a couple of years."

"About that vacation time?"

"Yes, yes." He thought it over for a minute before he nodded. "Very well. I don't want to see you back here for two weeks unless there's an emergency."

"Two weeks? I just wanted a few days."

"Would you mind excusing us, kid?" Marty asked Pidge, who nodded and watched as Marty lead Sarah into his office and closed the door behind them. "What's up with you, Sarah?"

"What do you mean?"

"I won't say you've been slacking off, because God knows you haven't," he replied, pushing a hand through his hair. "It just seems like you've lost the heart for it. It's not a passion anymore for you, it's more a job now, and one you don't like doing." Sarah sighed and sat down, tucking strands of her hair behind her ear.

"You're right, Marty, and I don't like that," she answered, hating herself for the sting of tears behind her eyes. "I love working here, don't get me wrong, it's just I don't think this is the field for me anymore."

"Sarah, with your skills, you could work anywhere, making a lot more than you do here. Hell, you could go for the rest of your life without working with what your aunt left you, but I know you won't because you need the day to day stimulation."

"You're right about that, too," Sarah agreed with a nod. "I don't really need the money, just the work. I could build my own fleet with what I've learned hanging around here, and I might try my hand at that sometime down the road. I just . . . don't know anymore, Marty."

"Which is why I gave you two weeks instead of the few days you asked for. I want you to take a good, hard look at your life and figure out where you want it to go. It may not be here, but if it is, it won't be a problem for you to come back."

"Thanks, Marty."

"Good luck, Sarah. We'll see you back in two weeks."

"Bye." She stood, started to shake Marty's hand, then changed her mind and hugged him instead. "I'll be good, Marty, I promise."

"Do what you want, just don't get in trouble."

"Or if I do, don't get caught, right?" she asked with a laugh as she pulled back. "See you around, Marty."

"What was that all about?" Pidge asked when she came out of Marty's office, closing the door behind her.

"Marty noticed that my heart doesn't seem to be in my job anymore." She shrugged and smiled a little. "He gave me two weeks to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life."

"That was nice of him."

"Certainly better than what he could have done, that's for sure." When he lifted an eyebrow in question, she shrugged again. "He could have fired me."

"What, and raise suspicion about the affair you two are having?" he teased, hoping to make her smile. She laughed, throwing an arm around his shoulders to give him a squeeze. "So which one is yours?"

"That one over there," she said, pointing to a jade green ship. "I usually keep her here, mostly because the guys around here won't even breathe on her without my knowing about it." She keyed in her access code and stepped back as the ramp came down. "You can look but don't touch anything: I'll know if you do. I need to go pack up and get my cats. I shouldn't be long, but still, don't touch anything."

"If I have to sit on my hands, I won't touch a thing," he replied, holding up his right hand and putting his left over his heart. "May I never be able to fly Green Lion again if I do."

"Nice one, Pidge," she chuckled, ruffling his hair a little. "I'll be back in five minutes, then at the most." With that, she was gone, and he went up the ramp. He made his way to the cockpit, and froze. He breathed a sigh of professional envy and wondered how long it would take to get Sarah to let him touch the controls.

"Take your time, Sarah," he murmured to himself, finding himself a seat and doing exactly as he promised: sitting on his hands. Ten minutes later, as promised, Sarah walked into the cockpit, her cats trailing behind her. Proton he knew, but the black one was new. "Who's this?"

"Neutron. A friend of mine found him curled up in a little ball, sound asleep, by her ship. She couldn't keep him, though, so she brought him to me."

"He's cute."

"And he knows it, so don't say it too much or it'll go to his head." She stowed her bag and took her seat. Getting clearance from C&C, she lifted off and carefully steered them out of the hangar. "Next stop: Planet Arus."

* * *

**To Be Continued . . .**


	7. Soul Searching

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Voltron, never have and never will. I just wish I did. I don't own the original characters, either. Just the ones I've created and I guard them jealously. With that legal mumbo jumbo over once again, let's get back to the story.

* * *

**Planet Arus: Castle of Lions One Week Later**

The stallion plunged over the crest of the dune, digging hard into the sand and kicking it up behind him. With a seawall on one side and the ocean on the other, horse and rider raced down the beach. The stallion needed no whip or spur to drive him on: as it would always be with him, a word or knee pressure was enough to get him going at the speeds he craved and reveled in. His rider knew and accepted this as part of his nature: she reveled in his power and speed almost as much as he did.

The stallion was fifteen hands of barely restrained coal-black energy, wide at the chest, powerful at the neck. The horse's hide glistened with sweat but his breathing was strong and even. Astride him, the rider leaned low over his neck, the sea roaring in her ears and the thrill of speed rushing through her veins. The beach leveled off and the stallion's stride lengthened, taking them faster and faster. Speed whipped the woman's dark hair as freely as the horse's dark mane.

Together, they sped up a path that led up to the cliffs. The path was rough, but they took it easily. At the peak, the horse reared, powerful forelegs pawing the air. For an instant, horse and rider were silhouetted against the bright afternoon sky. One looked as dangerous as the other.

They rested there, both breathing hard as the adrenaline rush dissipated. The cry of gulls drew the rider's gray gaze out to the ocean. She sighed in longing as she watched the small pleasure boats skim the surface of the water. "Let's go home, Necromancer," she said and turned him around. They cantered back the way they came and arrived back at the castle thirty minutes later.

"Did you have a good run?" Perrin asked as they rode through the gates.

"Absolutely, Perrin," Sarah said, her eyes bright with pleasure as she dismounted. "He'll need a good long walk today." She handed the reins to the best and most experienced groom: Allura trusted no one else with her best horse, and Sarah agreed. "An extra ration of oats wouldn't hurt him either. I gave him quite a work-out."

"I'm sure he appreciates it, Miss," Perrin replied, stroking the horse's neck to calm him when he danced back. "Not many of the grooms can control him for long, so he doesn't get the exercise he needs. The Captain can, but he doesn't have a lot of time for riding these days."

"I understand completely," Sarah laughed, digging for the lump of sugar Necromancer was nudging her pocket for. "All right, you big faker. Now, be good for the other grooms and don't give them too much trouble." Necromancer nickered and butted her shoulder. She saw the mischief in his eyes and knew there'd be trouble in the stables this afternoon. "Thank you, Perrin, and you, Necromancer, for the wonderful ride."

"You're welcome, Miss," Perrin answered, inclining his head to her as she walked away, heading for the castle.

She'd been seeking a way to get out of the castle and clear her head for a while, and had wandered to the stables. There was a commotion at one end, so she headed for it, wondering what it was all about. Right at that moment, the horse had broken free of his handlers and charged toward her. She'd held her ground and the horse came to a quivering halt inches from her, glaring down at her. She stared back at him, keeping her expression and body language open and curious at the same time. He snorted before lowering his head and bumping her in the chest.

"He needs exercise," she'd said simply, reaching out and running a hand down his neck. He quivered under her hand, but held still. While she held him, the grooms had saddled him, giving her the bridle. Moments later, she was up in the saddle, and riding hell for leather wherever Necromancer was willing to take her. Once they were far enough from the castle, she'd let the glamour drop and enjoyed the freedom of being what she was, even if only for a little while.

Later, she found herself on the roof sketching, just letting the pencil roam across the paper and letting her thoughts follow after it. Sarah knew that one of the others would come and get her for dinner. Pidge had gotten his promised kiss at dinner that first night, much to everyone's enjoyment, and afterward, she'd handed him another encryption, promising him a date if he finished before she left again. Proton and Neutron checked in regularly, letting her know where they were and what they were doing, but being careful not to disturb her.

Heaving a sigh, she set the sketchpad aside, and drew up her knees. Things weren't going as she'd hoped in any of her projects, and it was bothering her to no end. All of her contacts were coming up empty handed, which was never good news, and either the people they talked to really knew nothing or they were too scared to reveal what they'd seen.

"Sarah, it's time for dinner," Lance called, poking his head out the door. "You know how Nanny gets when we're late."

"Lance, I have a question for you," she said, not taking her eyes off the spectacular sunset.

"What is it?"

"If you had a project that's not going anywhere, what would you do?" Lance stepped out and crossed to her, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Depends on the project, I suppose," he replied, shrugging one shoulder and glancing down at her. "Why?"

"I've got a couple going right now," she answered, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, "and they don't seem to be stalled. There's been almost no progress for almost a month."

"Problems with those pirates?"

"Them, too," she sighed, picking up her sketchpad and getting gracefully to her feet. "I've got some feelers out to people who know where to look for people like that, and they've come up with nothing. I'm wondering if I should just let it go or keep at it."

"Keith would probably tell you to keep at it," he said, holding the door open for her. "You never know what might turn up and when."

"Good point."

"The other project?"

"The other project is a little more complex," she replied, shifting the book in her hands to close it, but Lance stopped her. It was a picture of a gryphon, crouched on the edge of a cliff, wing raised, poised for flight. As he looked closer, he realized it was snarling, whether in defiance, anger or fear he didn't know. Its eyes blazed with an emotion he couldn't define, and its clawed feet looked to have a death grip on the cliff's edge. He studied it and realized that it _was_ poised for flight, but it would be one of escape, not one of freedom.

"This is . . . interesting," he finally managed, letting her close the book. "It's very well done."

"What do you make of it?" He thought about his answer for a time, leading her toward the dining room out of habit, not noticing where he was going.

"The escape from responsibility is my best guess," he said, shrugging one shoulder. "It can be a heavy burden, I know, but sometimes it's more important to take those responsibilities than try to find ways around them."

"You have a good point," she answered, tucking her hair back behind her ear again. "There are times when it becomes necessary, though, to escape duty. Thinking only of duty could drive a person mad."

"Tell that to Keith one day," Lance replied with a laugh, "or to the princess. I'm sure they'll both have some interesting things to say to that." It was her turn to shrug.

"You don't honestly think they don't have a way to have fun, do you?" She chuckled a little at that. "They've both got their own ways to unwind and have a good time. Just because we don't know about it doesn't mean it doesn't happen."

"That's something I'm not sure I want to think about too hard, Sarah," he said with a slight grimace.

"Sometimes, you're such a prude, Lance," she replied with a laugh as the door to the dining room opened.

"Good timing, you two," Allura called from the table. "You were almost late."

"Since coming here, my stomach is on a very precise clock when it comes to dinner, Princess," Sarah said, taking her seat with a smile. "If I was late and missed dinner, I don't think it would ever forgive me." The door to the kitchen opened as Nanny came in, leading a group of maids pushing carts carrying their dinner. "Not only that, I like Nanny's cooking too much to miss dinner."

"Thank you, Miss Sarah," Nanny replied, nodding her appreciation of the compliment. _The old dragon didn't even crack a smile,_ Sarah thought with an internal chuckle. _What Nanny _really_ needs, none of us can give her._ Turning her attention back to the room in general, she joined the conversations flowing around the table, easily keeping up and adding comments when necessary. Early training allowed her to do so while letting other matters turn over in her mind, trying to find the solutions to the difficult problems she was having.

By the time dessert was brought out, Sarah heaved a sigh. "I simply can't eat another bite," she declared to the others with a smile. "I'm going to need to wander the gardens for a while before going to bed. I'll see you all in the morning. If you'll excuse me?" The question was addressed to Allura, who looked surprised by the turn of events, but she nodded.

"Good night, Sarah," she answered, echoed by the others, and with a general nod, Sarah left. Making her way to the gardens, she sank down with a sigh on one of the many benches scattered through them. She wondered what news her contacts would bring that night, but then shook her head. That wasn't what she'd come out here to think about.

Despite all that had happened here, Arus was still one of the most peaceful places she'd ever been. She wasn't sure why, but she felt better every time she came to visit, no matter how long she stayed. Marty must have somehow known, so he'd sent her here with Pidge to reevaluate her life, and where she wanted to go with it. Sarah figured that if she could have done so anywhere, she would have come here, to just this spot, to soak up the peace and make decisions.

She planned to do just that for a while before going inside to deal with the investigation she had going for the pirates, and for the one behind the experimentation on psychics. It had taken her almost five years of hard work to get as far as she had, and she wasn't giving up now, but her team seemed to have hit a wall with the investigation. She might have to personally step in to see what she could do. As it was, she had her team sending them all the information they collected, no matter how minute it might be, and she was going through it a piece at a time, hoping to make it all add up. For some reason, adding two and two with this equaled twelve, and something was off. She could feel it, but she couldn't pin it down.

Heaving a sigh, she pushed a hand through her hair. Some of her psychics had overcome the problems that removing their natural filters had created, and were doing well as long as they could come back to her home in the California Mountains for a time. With more practice, they probably wouldn't need to come back at all. The majority, however, were still struggling to function, even inside the house, and a few would probably never leave, no matter how hard they worked on control. She accepted that, and would make arrangements for them.

She stood to pace, her thoughts too heavy to remain still. Her two weeks were up soon, and if she couldn't make a decision, it wouldn't be worth her life to go back and tell Marty she still wasn't sure. She sat down again, and took a deep breath. "You might as well come out, Lance," she said, looking up at the stars. "I know you're there."

"Keith is the same way," Lance replied, stepping into view around the corner. "It's almost impossible to sneak up on him."

"Ah, a challenge," Sarah chuckled, shaking her head a little. "It probably won't last, but it's nice and peaceful out here."

"I'll take it for as long as it lasts," he answered with a shrug. "It never lasts long enough in my opinion, but when it does, it's nice to have a break."

"And if it lasted too long, you'd all probably go nuts, I'm sure," she laughed, forgetting her troubles for the moment.

"So what brings you out here?"

"It's quiet, for the moment," she replied, smiling a little, "and it's open. With the kind of thoughts I seem to be having, I need space to work them out."

"I see." He was silent for a few moments, and she could tell he was gearing up to ask her something. "Do you want to be alone?"

"Not anymore." While it wasn't the question he wanted to ask, he took it as the invitation it was to sit beside her and look up at the stars with her. "It hasn't been easy, has it? Losing Coran, I mean," she added when he gave her a blank look.

"No, but it's not supposed to be, is it?" he asked, putting his hands in his pockets. "It'll get easier with time, but it'll never really go away."

"It never does," she answered, heaving a sigh. "It never get any easier to lose someone, either."

"Personal experience, I take it?"

"Got it in one." Sarah stood up and paced furiously for a few moments before dropping back down. She scowled down at her toes for a moment, scuffing one shoe in the gravel before smoothing it out with the side of her boot. "Why is it nothing seems to go right when you want it to?"

"It's probably the universe's way of making you work for your rewards, I guess," he replied with another shrug. "It's probably not the answer you wanted, but it's really all I've got."

"Best answer I've heard," she answered with a shrug. "I just don't know what to do about my projects. Nothing seems to be going right, and no matter how hard I try, I can't make any sense of the information I'm getting."

"So strop trying," he said simply. Sarah turned a baffled, slightly angry gaze on him. "It's like a puzzle, right? The more you try to force the pieces to fit, the longer it'll take to finish. If you step back for a minute, turn completely away before looking at it again, suddenly you find where the pieces fit and you wonder why it took so long for you to see it." Her gaze turned considering as she pondered that, realizing that there was more to this man than met the eye.

"I might try that," she replied, smiling a little more now. "You never know, it could work. I won't tell anyone, by the way."

"Tell anyone what?"

"That you've got a latent philosophical streak in you," she told him, laughing a little at the expression on his face: pure male panic. "You're smarter than you look, too."

"Please, spare me." He laughed at himself, knowing it was true. "I have a reputation to uphold around here."

"Your secret is safe with me, I promise." She looked back up at the stars and sighed. "Trouble's coming. Trouble always does."

"That's the truth. It's just a question of when and how bad." They were quiet for a few minutes before Sarah sighed again.

"You might as well ask, Lance. You'll probably explode otherwise."

"Saw through my pitiful ruse, did you?"

"It wasn't pitiful. It was actually pretty good, and I got a lot of help from it." Pushing a hand through her hair, she looked at him. "Helping me wasn't the only reason you came out here. You have questions you need answered and I'm probably the best source of information."

"You're right about that," he answered with a sigh of his own. "I guess the root of it is Dusty."

"What about her?"

"You knew her?"

"Sure, but not that well. She stopped by the Waystation. She was on her way here, from what I understood. We talked quite a lot while she was there, working on her Lion together to make sure it got here, and I got to know her as well as anyone could, I suppose. Not long after, I got a message from Dusty, asking if she could bounce an important message here off of my computer. I agreed, giving that she looked like she'd been through hell."

"She had. During a battle, she was captured and taken to planet Doom. Lotor took great pleasure in inflicting pain on her."

"He's always been an asshole, Lance. Everyone knows this." She waved that away with an impatient flick of her wrist. "Anyway, a few months ago, I got a call from a mutual friend. I was at the Waystation again, and was asked if I could head back to Constanta to work on the Lion again." She smiled a little at the memory. "I managed to get the time off, and went home. I will tell you, in all honesty, that I don't think I slept for a week when I first started working on it."

"Who brought Brown Lion to Constanta?"

"I'm not sure. It was already waiting for me when I got there." She shrugged. "I didn't think to ask, when I know I should have."

"Hindsight is always twenty=twenty, anyway." He thought through what she'd told him, wondering if she was actually telling the truth or lying to get him off the trail. Something wasn't right, and he wanted- needed- to know what it was before the trouble they both knew was coming arrived. "Are you _sure_ it wasn't Dusty?"

"Not a hundred percent certain, no. The call came from a friend, a man we both know, and he said that Brown Lion would be waiting. How he knew, I don't know. I'll ask him tomorrow if you like. He's asleep just now, and doesn't like to be woken up before he's ready."

"That might be a good idea. Thanks for that, Sarah."

"No problem. Now that you've brought it up, I can't help thinking what an idiot I was to accept that it would be there without knowing who brought it, and considering it's state, how they brought it." She slanted him a sly, sidelong look. "Why all the questions about Dusty, Lance?"

"You didn't hear?"

"Hear what?" she asked, a baffled look crossing her face again. "Did something happen?"

"I don't want to be the one to have to tell you this--"

"Spit it out, Lance."

"She died here, a few months ago." Sarah stared at him, the disbelief on her face fading as she studied his.

"How? How did it happen?"

"We're pretty sure her best friend, Matthew, stabbed her twice, once in the back and once in the belly, before leaving her here to die. I found her not far from this spot."

"Was someone with her? At the end?"

"I was," he said with a sigh, scooping a hand through his hair. "She said that death was a part of life, and nothing to be feared. She wanted to face it with grace and dignity, and that I shouldn't be ashamed of tears that had to be shed. She spoke a prayer, one that I had carved on the door of her mausoleum."

"The one about seeing her ancestors, and going to Valhalla?"

"That's the one."

"I taught her that," Sarah said quietly, looking down at her shoes again. "I'm not sure why or how, but we talked about what we'd want on our tombstones. We were working on Brown Lion at the time, and I honestly have no idea how the subject came up." She flicked her wrist again, dismissing it as beside the point. "When I told her the prayer, she closed her eyes and sighed. I asked what was wrong, but she just sighed again, and said it was perfect."

"I liked it a lot, too. It seemed to fit her personality."

"Personality?"

"Warrior queen, or at the very least a Valkyrie."

"That's the truth," Sarah replied with a watery laugh. "I always imagined a Valkyrie looking like that, but instead of black hair, they'd have those flaming Titan locks, you know?"

"Yeah, and with exactly the same kind of strength, physical and emotional."

"Precisely." She stood and stretched like a cat. "Well, I'm off to bed now. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night, Sarah." She smiled a little, and left him sitting on the bench in the moonlight.

* * *


	8. Trouble Comes

**Disclaimer:** Yeah, yeah, blah, blah. I don't own it, and never will. I'm used to it, and to typing all this out . . . or as close to it as makes no never mind. Oh, well. The only characters I own are mine.

* * *

**Planet Arus: Castle of Lions**

She took Lance's advice and stepped away from her investigations for a couple of days, knowing that the break would be good for her body and her mind. Turning the clues over and over was keeping her awake and was starting to affect her appetite. Sarah knew she was thin enough as it was and she didn't need to lose more weight than she already had. It wasn't easy, as it wasn't usually in her nature to be idle for long, but she managed, somehow keeping herself occupied for the duration of her self-imposed exile. When she finally picked up her research again, it was with fresh eyes and a rested mind. As Lance had predicted, the time away made things clear. Two and two finally added up to four, and she sent those she could spare to investigate the new angles she discovered to the strange rise in psychics unable to control their powers.

Knowing her operatives would work with all due speed and diligence, she turned her mind to the problem of the pirates. There hadn't been another attack since she'd left the Waystation, and that had been puzzling her since her arrival. She realized that there was a leak in the security at the Waystation, and sent word to her boss, knowing he would take care of it. Marty was good at getting things out of people, and the person he was talking to didn't realize they'd given more than they intended until it was too late. Sarah admired that trait in him, and always had. Seemingly random questions led to the most interesting information. At the same time, she tendered her resignation, knowing she wasn't going back to the Waystation. She explained that it was time for her to pursue other projects, thanked them for the experience she'd gained there, and added a quick apology for leaving so abruptly.

The one coordinating the attacks, however, still eluded her. Whoever it was had been careful to hide their involvement, leaving only lower level lackeys to take the blame if things went south. Sarah could feel it, and knew the answer would only reveal itself later, possibly after Galaxy Garrison concluded its investigation into the matter. The ships themselves were still a mystery, too, but she had people she could ask, and would do so later in the day. For now, it was time to step away again. Things were going well, and she wanted to keep it that way as long as she could. Staring at the computer, sifting through the data for hours on end wouldn't do that.

Pushing her chair away from the desk, she stretched her arms over her head and sighed before getting to her feet. "Are you two going to stay here?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at her cats, curled on her pillows in a patch of sun that came through the open windows.

_For a while,_ Proton replied, not even opening her eyes. _It's nice and warm right here._

_It's relaxing,_ Neutron added, his voice barely above a sleepy purr. _You should try this._

"Maybe later, kitten," Sarah laughed, stepping over to rub their ears gently before leaving the room. "Sleep well, you two. I'll see you later."

"A person could think you're crazy, talking to those cats like that," Allura chided with a laugh of her own as she came around the corner of the hall.

"I've heard you talk to your little space mice," Sarah replied with a smile, "so if I'm crazy, so are you." Allura thought about that for a moment, before she laughed again.

"I'll accept that," she said, a smile lighting her eyes. "Where are you off to today?"

"I'm not sure," Sarah answered, sighing now. "I didn't really have any plans for the day."

"Would you like to come to soccer practice? The boys set it up for the kids, and like to coach or referee when they can. It'll be fun and it's a great day outside, too."

"Hmm, watch a bunch of kids kick a ball around, or wander aimlessly around the castle looking for something to do?" Sarah asked herself rhetorically, pretending to think it over. "It's such a nice day out, too."

"Come on, Sarah," Allura cajoled, certainly not above begging, "_please_ don't make me the only girl out there."

"At least over the age of thirteen," Sarah laughed, following the princess to the rec room where the boys waited for them. "All ready to go?"

"What brings you here, Sarah?" Pidge asked, looking up from the magazine he and Hunk were reading.

"I found myself at loose ends this afternoon, Pidge," she answered, catching a look at the magazine over his shoulder. "Let me know when you two are finished with that. I haven't read that one yet."

"It's got the specs of the new--" Hunk began enthusiastically, pointing to the article they were reading, when Keith clearing his throat stopped him. "Sorry, Keith."

"It's all right, Hunk," he replied, smiling a little at the pair. Keith knew that when they got started it took a major disaster to stop them from speaking like the pilots they were. The two of them, techs to their souls, loved to keep themselves updated on every new piece of equipment, whether it flew or not, and could wax poetical for hours at a time about a favorite piece of hardware if no one stopped them. Sarah would probably enjoy it, but the kids certainly wouldn't. Some of what they talked about was way over their heads, and while they'd smile and nod like they understood every word, they'd be looking for a way to escape after a few minutes. "Let's not keep the kids waiting. They've been looking forward to this all week, from what I hear."

"I heard a rumor that Nanny is planning ice cream sundaes for the kids when we're done," Lance said, straightening from his place against the wall. "A little birdie also told me that little Alex is having a birthday today, and that it's a surprise for him."

"Nanny's sundaes are a gift from heaven, Sarah," Pidge told her, setting the magazine aside and getting to his feet, sounding like a kid himself at the prospect. "Have you had one?"

"Not yet, Pidge," she answered with a chuckle, taking a hair tie out of her pocket and pulling her hair through.

"Prepare yourself for a treat, then," Hunk said with a sigh of reminiscent pleasure. "It'll knock your socks off."

"I can't wait. It sounds like a rare treat."

* * *

Soccer practice was everything Allura had said it would be, and the sundaes afterward were even better than Hunk and Pidge had promised. Sarah spent part of practice with Alex, listening to him talk about his favorite stories that, to her surprise, Keith read to him and some of the younger crew when it rained. When he asked, she told him one of her favorites, about a young boy, not much older than him, who challenged a dragon to a soccer match to rescue a fair princess using a magic soccer ball. "Did you make that up?" he wanted to know, looking up at her in wonder. He could see it exactly as she described it, and Sarah knew it would feature in his dreams tonight.

"I certainly did," she replied with a smile. "You know, I heard someone was having a birthday today. I wonder if I can guess who it is. Don't tell me," she went on when he opened his mouth to reply, "I want to guess." Looking out at the other kids, she tapped a finger against her chin as she thought. "I think I've got it, Alex. Why don't you tell me if I'm right?"

"Ok," he agreed, eyes lighting up at the game. "Who do you think it is?"

"Wait, I want to be sure I've got it," she told him, leaning close to whisper in his ear. "Hmm, I think it's you."

"Why?"

"You're the only one who looks older today, my little friend," she answered with a smile, tousling his hair a little.

"Are you magic, Sarah?"

"We're all magic, Alex," she replied, looking back out at the game. "Some of us know it and some of us don't."

"Am I magic?"

"For today. Today, anything seems possible. Watch this." She reached out, showed him her hands were empty, and then pulled a quarter out of the air.

"Do it again!" he demanded, delighted when she did.

"Hold them really tight now," she instructed, closing his hands over the coins. "You got them?" He nodded, and she tapped the back of his hands twice and blew gently on them. "Think of your favorite piece of candy, now. Think of how it tastes and how it feels in your mouth. Ready?"

"Uh-huh."

"Open your hands, Alex." He cried out in surprise when he found his favorite chocolate candy was in his hands.

"Hey, how'd you do that?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be magic. Happy birthday, Alex."

"Thanks, Sarah," he said, throwing his arms around her and burying his face in her hair, which had long ago come loose from the tie she'd secured it with.

"You're welcome, little buddy." She returned the hug and watched him run off to show his friends the unexpected treat.

"That was well done," Keith said, dropping down to sit beside her. "I didn't see how you did it."

"That's part of the magic," she replied with a smile. "Who's winning?"

"It's kind of fluid at this point," he answered with a chuckle. "We changed the rules a little so the kids would have fun, and at the end of the day, we usually declare it a tie."

"Sounds good to me." She lifted a hand and waved when Alex called to her from across the field. "I just remembered there's someone I need to talk to today, so I need to go back to the castle for a little bit."

"We'll be heading back in about an hour," Keith said, catching something in her voice he couldn't place. "Why not wait and come back with us?"

"It's important, and he might not be home later," she argued, shaking her head. "I'll meet you all back there." She stood up and was gone before he could stop her. He shook his head, not knowing what had gotten into her. Deciding to pick it apart later, he got up and rejoined the game. An hour later, as promised, the children descended on the dining room for the sundaes Nanny made. They were almost gone when Sarah appeared, something in her hands. "Alex, would you come here for a moment?" she asked, looking a little shy about whatever it was she was carrying. It was the first time anyone had seen her any way other than supremely confident in herself and her abilities, and they were more than a little surprised by the change in her.

"Sure, Sarah," he replied and, standing, did as she asked.

"I've got something for you," she told him, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. "I hope you like it." She handed him a brightly wrapped package, lacing her hands behind her back as he ripped off the wrapping.

"Wow, Sarah," he said, his tone thunderstruck as he looked down at the picture she'd made for him. It was a scene from the story she'd told him earlier. The boy, he realized in wonder, was him kicking the magic soccer ball, glowing gold in the fading light, past an enormous green dragon, which had no choice but to watch it sail past him because he was stuck between two thick trees. It was exactly as he'd pictured it when she'd told it to him. "This is great."

"Really?" Pleasure lit her face, making her look much younger than she usually appeared. "You're not just saying that?"

"Uh-uh," Alex told her, shaking his head. "I love it. Thank you so much, Sarah."

"It was my pleasure, Alex." Alex insisted that she sit beside him, and she obliged, and they spent the rest of the time discussing their favorite parts of the story. Another part of his present was that she planned to illustrate the entire story and put it in the playroom where he and the other kids could read it whenever they wanted, making the other kids ecstatic at the idea of a new book. It was only better in their eyes that it came from a friend of their heroes, the Voltron Force.

* * *

Later that night, she was out in the gardens again, looking up at the stars as she remembered Alex's surprise and delight at her present. It really made her feel good to make little kids happy, and this was her first chance in a while to do that. She hadn't had time to visit the orphanages on Constanta, and she knew the kids missed her. Promising herself she'd _make_ the time soon, she stood from the bench she'd been sitting on, planning to go inside, when suddenly the alarms sounded. Heaving a sigh, she pushed a hand through her hair. _Apparently, the trouble we've been expecting is here,_ she thought to herself, then ran inside, catching up to Lance, Hunk, Pidge and Allura as they ran for the control room.

"It seems like a night for surprises," Pidge said, smiling tightly at the thought they might have to fight Zarcon tonight.

"It certainly does," Lance agreed, nodding to Sarah when he noticed she was with them. She returned it, but said nothing. Hanging back when they reached the control room, she watched as Keith quickly and competently dealt with the incoming message. Instead of the familiar shape of Lotor's personal ship, they were stunned to see it was one of the pirate vessels that had been hounding the trade routes and in general making life interesting for everyone. To Sarah's surprise, Nonna Tomanello, the woman who had tried to hire Ciarrann to rid the universe of the Voltron Force, was on the screen, watching the room with great interest. Behind her, large as life, was O'Brian, looking for the entire world like he'd rather be anywhere else than with Nonna, but once he saw her standing behind the others, his face lit an unholy smile. He tapped Nonna on the shoulder, leaning to whisper in her ear. Sarah swore softly to herself: she should have eliminated the idiot when she had the chance.

"Who are you and what do you want?" Keith demanded, foregoing the usual niceties.

"I've heard a lot about you, Captain," Nonna replied, a secretive smile on her lips, "and your reputation precedes you. I must say, though, that I _had_ expected a more polite welcome from you, if not the Princess." She sighed in mock exasperation and shook her head a little. "My name is Nonna Tomanello, and I'm looking for someone. Maybe you know her."

"Who?" Allura wanted to know, and from her tone, Sarah guessed that she had her suspicions.

"Ciarrann Smith."

"Never heard of her."

"That's not _entirely_ true, is it?" Nonna looked passed them at Sarah and raised an eyebrow. "Sarah Monroe, Chief Mechanic at the Waystation, and," she paused and Sarah nearly groaned in exasperation at her pathetic attempt at drama, "mercenary in disguise."

"What makes you think that, Nonna?" Sarah wondered, keeping her expression innocent, though inside she was cursing herself for giving O'Brian the chance to take her advice and leave her alone. She should have known he wouldn't do it, and now he was hooked up with Nonna, and that was enough of a problem in itself. She knew the others were looking at her, but she didn't take her eyes off the screen, well able to hear what was going through their minds.

"My friend here knows who you are," Nonna told her, steepling her fingers under her chin. Sarah almost laughed, knowing she was trying to look evil and barely making devious. "A few calls, and it wasn't hard to find out where you've been hiding yourself."

"I'm surprised he remembered," Sarah said evenly, turning her gaze to O'Brian for a moment and letting him see his own destruction there. He blanched and turned away, unable to keep his arrogant sneer in place. "He's not known for his brilliance, after all. Take the fact that after telling him, in no uncertain terms, that if he ever approached me again, I would kill him, he's here and he brought you along. Then again, I believe I told _you_ the same thing, Nonna."

"That you did, Sarah," she acknowledged with a slight nod, "but I have something you want."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Really?" Nonna asked, allowing surprise to show on her face. "Get it." O'Brian moved out of camera range and reappeared a few moments later, carrying a struggling child. Though her arms were tied behind her back and there was a gag stuffed in her mouth, she managed to look defiant and kicked O'Brian in the shin as he held her up by her collar. Sarah let nothing of her own shock show, though she felt her heart stutter in her chest. "I believe _this_ is yours."

"What makes you think that?"

"She told me all about how 'Aunt Dusty' would come save her," Nonna replied, reaching over and patting the disheveled brown curls. The child jerked her head back and growled, in no way cowed by either of her captors. _Good girl,_ Sarah praised silently, and willed the girl not to do more than that. Though she didn't look hurt, she was at the mercy of two people who wanted nothing more than to hurt Sarah, and the quickest way to do that would be to hurt the child. "According to records, Dusty Haff died here on Arus six months ago, attacked by her best friend, but somehow, all the kids at an orphanage she runs remember her coming to see them three months ago, for this one's birthday if I'm not mistaken. Would you care to explain?"

"Haff, like Smith or Jones, isn't that uncommon of a last name, Nonna," Sarah said with a careless shrug, though it cost her dearly to remain casual. "I'd say you were taken in by a child and the moron beside you."

"Your hair is turning red, _Sarah,_" O'Brian told her, speaking for the first time since the conversation had began. Swearing silently to herself, she allowed the glamour to drop, revealing herself as who she had always been: Dusty.

"Now, we're getting somewhere."

**To Be Continued . . . **

**

* * *

AN:** Cruel, I know, but I had to stop there. Though the original wasn't as detailed, something about this version demanded a longer, more involved conversation. Don't worry, though, because the next part is going to be just a good, if not better, than the original. On to "Death Without Immortality"!


End file.
